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"Come on, boy," Aunt Abby regarded him kindly; "I'd be glad of your company." At the street door, the old lady asked for a taxicab, and the strangely assorted pair were soon on their way. "You're a bright lad, Fibsy," she said; "by the way, what's your real name I forget." "Terence, ma'am; Terence McGuire. I wish't I was old enough to be called McGuire! I'd like that."

I do my best and I have hated it. Get the money ready and come to me. Bellamy drew a little breath and tore the note into pieces. Then he rang for his servant. "A bath and some clean clothes quickly," he ordered. "While I am changing, ring up Downing Street and see if Sir James is there. If not, find out exactly where he is. I must see him within half an hour. Afterwards, get me a taxicab."

With the fear in her great brown eyes constantly before him, Duvall determined more than ever to free her from this terrible persecution. They separated in the neighborhood of 30th Street, Duvall and Miss Morton taking a taxicab that stood before one of the smaller Fifth Avenue hotels. He made a pretense of entering the hotel, and did not summon the taxi until Mrs.

"Step back!" ordered Dave, catching hold of the fellow, and swinging him around. "You're not going to follow." "I must have the number of that taxicab," cried the stranger, desperately. "Too late," smiled Dave, as he saw the taxicab turn the next corner. "You won't learn the number. I happened to see it, though," he added incautiously. "Give it to me, then," commanded the other.

He was embarrassingly jocular and salacious. In the taxicab Babbitt incredulously found tears crowding into his eyes. He had not told Paul of his plan but he did stop at Akron, between trains, for the one purpose of sending to Zilla a postcard with "Had to come here for the day, ran into Paul." In Zenith he called on her.

For two days we haunted these famous gun-makers' shops, and for two days I made a magnificent attempt to look learnedly at things about which I knew little. At last, after many hours of gun shopping, attended by the constant click of a taxicab meter, I assembled such an imposing arsenal that I was nervous whenever I thought about it.

He was so preoccupied that he failed to notice an approaching taxicab, though the driver was signaling, and even tooted a motor horn loudly in the endeavor to attract his attention. He did, however, catch his own name, and halted. "Beg pardon, sir, but you are Mr. Theydon, aren't you?" said the man. Then Theydon recognized Evans, the taxidriver, who had brought him from Fortescue Square.

One of them, a tall, handsome, magnetic chap, with a big, deep laugh and a most beautiful command of our own tongue, turned out to be a captain on the general staff. It seemed to him the greatest joke in the world that four American correspondents should come looking for war in a taxicab, and should find it too.

Really, Mr. Carroll, there ought to be a law against newspapers printing such ridiculous things!" "As what, for instance?" "That thing they had in there this morning. Why, the way they mentioned Hazel Gresham, you'd have thought that they thought she was the woman who killed Roland the woman in the taxicab." Carroll's eyes narrowed slightly. The faint smile still played about his lips.

"Quite correct," murmured Harley, dryly. "Exactly what I should have done." The spy, knowing himself discovered, had abandoned his own car in favour of a passing taxicab, and in the latter had taken up the pursuit. Paul Harley lighted a cigarette. Oddly enough, he was aware of a feeling of great relief.

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