Meanwhile Pa Simmons had been looking over the flivver, giving her a little grease here and there, and tightening up a nut or two. With Blossom's help he succeeded in modifying the list to starboard that was her most characteristic peculiarity. In case de Socotra might have remarked her license number on a previous occasion they changed plates for to-night with Blossom's car. Greg took the wheel, and Blossom cranked her. Bessie waved good-by from the kitchen doorway. All knew that a crisis in the affairs of Greg and Amy was due this night. After the customary fusillade of backfires while she was warming up the flivver moved out of the yard. It was now shortly after four. Greg hastened up-town and from the telegraph office nearest the Stickney Arms sent his decoy telegram to de Socotra. Returning then to Irving Place he took up his stand just above the _Hotel dos Estados Unidos_ where he could watch the entrance. To all those who offered to engage him he shook his head and pointed to the flag on his taxi-meter which was down. His principal fear was that the telegram might be delivered too soon, and de Socotra get to the apartment before the ladies returned from the theater. This would be a calamity since Amy would be unprepared for him; she could not be expected to get a chance to read Greg's letter until she got home. But as five o'clock approached and there was no sign of de Socotra, Greg's anxieties took another direction. Suppose the telegram were not delivered until after de Socotra had left for the station; suppose he had already been to the hotel for his bag, and would not get the telegram at all. Choosing a moment when the little lobby was well-filled Greg inconspicuously made his way in and helped himself to a drink from the water-cooler. As he passed the desk he glanced in box 318. The key was not there; de Socotra then was presumably in his room. So far so good. Greg returned to his cab with an easier mind. At five minutes past five a messenger boy entered the hotel with several telegrams, among which Greg devoutly hoped might be the one he had sent. At ten minutes past five de Socotra issued out of the hotel. In one hand he carried his valise, in the other an opened telegram. His face bore an expression of strong annoyance not unmixed with alarm. Greg eagerly called his cab to his attention. "Taxi, sir?" De Socotra came quickly towards him, and Greg stooping cranked his car. Thus de Socotra got in without obtaining a good look at his chauffeur. In a few minutes it would be dark. Greg slid into his seat, and turned an ear towards the back of his car. "Where to, sir?" "Stickney Arms apartment house, Riverside and Ninety-fourth. And hurry. Double fare if you get me there and back to the Southern Terminal before six." Touching his cap, Greg opened her up. Deep within him he chuckled with satisfaction; de Socotra obviously had no suspicion that he had ever engaged that cab before.