"Oh, bother!" she said. "We'll have to dump him out here. There's no help for it. This is important. It may be a matter of life and death!" In speaking, she instinctively turned her head and looked through the glass behind her. "Don't look!" cried Greg cold with horror. But she only pressed her face closer to the glass. "There isn't anybody there," she said. Greg astonished threw open the door. It was true. The cab was empty. He gasped; his jaw dropped; he stared at the empty place like an idiot. "What's the matter with you?" said the girl laughing. "I suppose he just woke up and walked off when you weren't looking." "He was past walking," said Greg. His grim air impressed her. "What do you mean?" "He was dead." "Dead!" she cried. "Are you mad?" Greg shook his head. "Dead as mutton!" Her lip trembled like a child's. "Good heavens, what a city this is!" "So it seems!" said Greg grimly. "What had happened to him?" Greg told her what part of the story he had omitted before. "Then that was why the man was so anxious to sell you the cab?" "That was why." "What has become of it?" "God knows!" They looked at each other in dumb amazement. Suddenly the girl's expression changed. "Did my--did that man who was riding with you know?" she asked sharply. "No. I told him the same as I told you; that my other fare was drunk." "I wondered why he rode outside with you. It is not like him to do such things. You are sure he had no hand in it?" she persisted. This was a new thought to Greg. "Why, no," he said. "How could he? He just happened to pick me up later. But I don't know. Why not? There was something queer about all his actions." "What was he like, the dead man?" "A nice old gentleman; plump, smooth-shaven, kindly-looking; looked like a Spanish-American. By Gad! they were all Spanish, weren't they?" The girl's face gradually sharpened with anxiety now. Greg went on: "There was a valise under the body; that's gone too." "Like that you saw in the hotel up-town?" she asked breathlessly. "The very same! I never thought of it!" A low cry escaped the girl. "He had an odd-looking ring on; octagonal red stone with characters cut in it." "My uncle!" she cried despairingly. "I suspected it! They have done for him! I was too late!" She covered her face with her hands. Greg gazed at her in silent sympathy. The hands came down; the soft face hardened. "No time for mourning now. Since I couldn't save him, I mean to avenge him!" "If I could tell you how sorry I am!" murmured Greg. "Don't sympathize with me," she said quickly. "It brings the tears back. I must be hard. Help me to be hard." "I am at your service in all ways," he said simply. "You see what happened now?" she said. "I am beginning to."