"If you
see a taxi, get close to it."
"I'll do hit, seh, yass seh!" said the negro, as he climbed on the box
and jerked the lines.
But though they went out the avenue to beyond Sheridan Circle, and back
again, and along the streets north of P and west of Twentieth, no taxi
was seen--nor any trace of Madeline Spencer. They drove over the route
for more than an hour--and never raised a yellow taxi nor a skirt.
Finally Harleston abandoned the search and headed the cab for the
Collingwood.
Miss Williams was on duty when he entered, and she signalled him to the
desk.
"The Chateau has been trying to get you for the last half-hour," said
she. "Shall I call them?"
"If you please," he replied, "I'll wait here."
Presently she nodded to Harleston; he stepped into the booth and closed
the door.
"This is Mr. Harleston," said he.
"I recognize your voice, Guy, dear," came Madeline Spencer's soft
tones. "I'd know it _anywhere_, indeed."
"The same to you, my lady," Harleston returned. "Was that what you were
calling me for?"
"No, no!" she laughed. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm back at the
Chateau. I thought you might be interested, you know; you sprinted so
rapidly up N Street, and spent so much time driving around in a cab
searching for me, that I assume it will be a very great relief to you to
know that I am returned.
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