"Listen; go quick to her apartment--don't telephone. Tell her her father is coming back and to beat it, see? Tell her the old cab will be at the door in five minutes. I'll make it all right with you." "I get you, boss." "Be quick! He's almost there!" Greg then drove the flivver for all there was in her to Sherman Square, to Riverside, to Ninety-fourth Street. As he ran up the narrow roadway to the Stickney Arms a cab stopped there ahead of them. De Socotra sprang out and ran up the steps. The cab went on. Greg stopped just beyond the steps, and waited for a moment or two. If Amy had got out safely, she would be on the lookout for him. But she did not appear. His anxiety became insupportable. He could not rest. He went into the apartment house to learn what had happened. The gorgeous blue-clad ones looked askance at the shabby driver. The boy he knew was not in sight. "Where is Frank?" he asked. "Up-stairs." Even as he asked Frank stepped out of an elevator. There were two elevators, and evidently de Socotra had gone up in one as Frank came down in the other. Greg beckoned Frank aside from the others. "I'm the fellow that telephoned you just now--about Miss de Socotra." Frank's jaw dropped. Greg had not time to make explanations. He showed the boy the five dollar bill de Socotra had just tossed him. That did the trick, though the boy still gaped at him. "You gave her my message?" "Yes, just now." "Only just now! It was a good five minutes ago!" "I know. It wasn't my fault. They kept me waiting at the door. I suppose the girl had to wait for a chance to slip her word." "You should have told the maid! She's safe." "How was I to know that?" "Is she out of the place?" "No, she went back for something." Greg groaned. "Then it's too late. He's just gone up." The boy whistled. Greg jumped for the elevator. But the boy hung back. Greg was too disreputable looking for the Stickney Arms. During that pause from somewhere far up in the building the sound of a slammed door came down the stair well. "Take me up!" cried Greg. "How do you run this damned thing!" A signal showed on the telephone switchboard. "His number!" said one of the boys springing to answer, and Greg paused. "Yes, sir, all right, sir," stammered the boy at the board. He jumped up breathless with excitement. "The Spanish gent! He says the girl's run out. He says she's not herself. He says stop her. And one of us go up and bring him down." The elevator signal was already ringing continuously. Greg stepped out. He cast a significant glance around from boy to boy. "My cab's just beyond the door. A fiver to each of you fellows if she gets in it safe!"