There were many taxis coming into the line of traffic from Bond Street and from the other main thoroughfares crossing Oxford Street--red taxis, just like the one in which Forbes was escaping. Yet we both kept our eyes fixed upon that particular one, the driver of which presently bent sideways, and shot back a glance at us. Then he put on speed, and with marvellous dexterity threaded in and out of the motor-buses and carts in front of him. I was compelled to admire his driving. I could only suppose that Forbes had offered him something handsome if he got safely away. At the Marble Arch he suddenly turned down Park Lane, where the traffic was less, and there gaining upon us, he turned into one of the smaller streets, through Upper Grosvenor Street, winding in and out the intricate thoroughfares which lay between Grosvenor Square and Regent Street. Across Hanover Square and along Hanover Street we sped, until, passing out on to the opposite side of Regent Street, the driver, evidently believing that he had outwitted us, slowed down, and then pulled up suddenly before a shop. Ere the fugitive could escape, indeed ere the door could be opened, we had pulled up a few yards away, and I dashed out and up to the door of the cab, my revolver gripped in my hand. My driver had descended also, and gained the other side of the cab almost as soon as I had. I opened the door, and met the fugitive boldly face to face. Next second I fell back as though I had received a blow. I stood aghast. I could utter no word. The mystery had, I realized in that second, been increased a hundredfold. CHAPTER NINE FACE TO FACE On opening the door of the taxi I stood amazed to find that the occupant was not a man--but a woman. It was Sylvia! She started at sight of me. Her countenance blanched to the lips as she drew back and sat erect, a cry of dismay escaping her lips. "You!" I gasped, utterly dumbfounded. "Why--Mr. Biddulph!" she cried, recovering herself in a moment and stretching forth her small gloved hand; "fancy meeting you like this!" What words I uttered I scarcely knew. This sudden transformation of the scoundrel Forbes into Sylvia Pennington held me bewildered. All I could imagine was that Sylvia must have been awaiting the man in another cab close to the bank, and that, in the course of our chase, we had confused the two taxis. Forbes had succeeded in turning away into some side street, while we had followed the cab of his companion. She had actually awaited him in another cab while he had entered the bank and cashed the stolen cheque! My taxi-driver, when he saw that a lady, and not a man, occupied the fugitive cab, drew back, returning to his seat. "Do you know!" exclaimed the girl, with wonderful calmness, "only yesterday I was thinking of you, and wondering whether you were in London!" "And only yesterday, too, Miss Pennington, I also was thinking of you," I said meaningly.