"You'll find 'em in the taxi," said he. He peered hard ahead and sniffed. "A bit thick, ain't it? Reminds one of London, Miss." He referred to the fog. At the bottom of the steps she encountered the irrepressible and somewhat jubilant scion of the house. His soft hat was pulled well down over his eyes, and the collar of his overcoat was turned up about his ears. He promptly accosted her, his voice lowered to an eager, confident undertone. "Don't cry, little girl," he said. "It isn't going to be bad at all. I--Oh, I say, now, listen to me!" She tried to pass, but he placed himself directly in her path. The taxi-cab loomed up vaguely through the screen of fog. At the corner below an electric street lamp produced the effect of a huge, circular vignette in the white mist. The raucous barking of automobile horns, and the whir of engines came out of the street, and shadowy will-o'-the-wisp lights scuttled through the yielding, opaque wall. "Be good enough to let me pass," she cried, suddenly possessed of a strange fear. "Everything is all right," he said. "I'm not going to see you turned out like this without a place to go--" "Will you compel me to call for help?" she said, backing away from him. "Help? Why, hang it all, can't you see that I'm trying to help you? It was a rotten thing for mother to do. Poor little girl, you sha'n't go wandering around the streets looking for--Why, I'd never forgive myself if I didn't do something to offset the cruel thing she's done to you tonight. Haven't I told you all along you could depend on me? Trust me, little girl. I'll--" Suddenly she blazed out at him. "I see it all! That is _your_ taxi, not mine! So that is your game, is it? You beast!" "Don't be a damn' fool," he grated. "I ought to be sore as a crab at you, but I'm not. You need me now, and I'm going to stand by you. I'll forgive all that happened today, but you've got to--" She struck his hand from her arm, and dashed out to the curb. "Driver!" she cried out. "If you are a man you will protect me from this--" "Hop in, Miss," interrupted the driver from his seat. "I've got all your bags and things up but,--What's that you're saying?" "I shall not enter this cab," she said resolutely. "If you are in the pay of this man--" "I was sent here in answer to a telephone call half an hour ago. That's all I know about it. What's the row?" "There is no row," said Stuyvesant, coming up. "Get in, Miss Emsdale. I'm through. I've done my best to help you." But she was now thoroughly alarmed. She sensed abduction. "No! Stay on your box, my man! Don't get down. I shall walk to my--" "Go ahead, driver. Take those things to the address I just gave you," said Stuyvesant. "We'll be along later." "I knew! I knew!" she cried out. In a flash she was running down the sidewalk toward the corner. He followed her a few paces and then stopped, cursing softly.