"You all wait here with the cabs. Shut off your engines. I'll go ahead and look over the ground. If I have to stay on watch I'll take cover in that clump of bushes opposite the entrance. Keep your eye on me. If I want you in a hurry I'll signal with my pocket flash. One flash, start your engines; two flashes move your cars up; three flashes shut your engines off; four flashes come on foot on the run." After making them repeat this code after him, Greg went on to the apartment house. First from across the road he took a survey of the windows of the de Socotra apartment. All the windows including Amy's were lighted. This was reassuring since it suggested they were still within. Greg then boldly entered the building. To his disappointment he saw that another shift of servants was now on duty in the hall. This meant that new relations must be established. But proceeding further back, to his joy he discovered Frank, now shorn of his gorgeous livery, sitting in an inconspicuous corner under the stairs. Frank seemed no less glad to see Greg. Eagerly coming forward he said: "I was looking for you, boss. It's my time off, but I thought there'd be somepin doing to-night, so I just stuck around." "Good man!" said Greg. "On the level, was it you here this afternoon, made up like a bum taxi-driver and all?" "That was me," said Greg. The boy's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Gee! you're some sport, fellow. You deserve to get her! That was some chase you give them. We watched it from the door as far as we could see down the Drive. But the old man got her back off you. Tough luck!" "Well, I'll have another try to-night," said Greg. "Say, count me in on it," begged Frank. "I don't care if I do lose me job!" Greg's heart warmed towards the boy. "Much obliged," he said. "I shan't forget it. But I've already got my gang outside." "Gee!" cried Frank. "Somepin doin' all right! I'm glad I didn't go home!" "Is the family all up-stairs?" asked Greg. Frank nodded. "Find out who he's been telephoning to, will you? I suppose the operator's been listening in." "You bet we ain't losing nothing from that apartment now. I can tell you without asking him. The Spanish bloke's been telephoning to a doctor guy that runs a sanitarium-like on Eighty-third Street; I took down the address for you; it's Doctor Tasker, 411 West Eighty-third. Seems her old man's going to take her there to-night. He's trying to make out she's looney." "I know," Greg said. "Can I get up-stairs by the service elevator, and have a word with the maid?" "She's fired," said Frank. "The deuce you say!" "Señor Soak-oater turned her out soon as he come home. She's down in the basement now, crying to the engineer's wife, 'cause she ain't got no place to go." "I'll fix that," said Greg. "Show me the way."