In his haste Haskins forgot something very important; he forgot that beneath the dirty mattress was the forty dollars that remained of the one hundred and ninety dollars Helen Gilmore had given him the previous afternoon. He didn't think of it until he had dashed down the two flights of stairs and had reached the street. As he realized this amazing oversight and turned back, he saw Annie sneaking out of the vestibule, running. He knew. She was calling the cops, trying to square herself. He didn't dare go back for the money. He wheeled in the opposite direction, walking swiftly. Flight without a dollar in pocket is a problem, but desperation has cut many a Gordian knot. Eighth Avenue is not a well-lighted street, and darkness had settled down over the city. A taxi nosed through the gloom, and after but a moment of hesitation Haskins hailed it; the question of fare did not bother him--not with that automatic in his pocket. The taxi drew up alongside the curb; it was a nice new taxi, with a shining, spotless coat of blue paint. "I wanna get to Yonkers in a hurry," said Don briskly. "Gotta important date out there. How quick can y'make it?" Yonkers was the river-bordered town which joined the New York city limits on the north. "Hour and a quarter," answered the driver, giving Haskins a sizing-up look. "O. K.," grunted Haskins. "Let's travel; go down Riverside Drive all the way." He climbed inside, and they were off. Don had a particular reason for choosing the Riverside Drive route. Past One Hundred and Eightieth Street the Drive winds between the river and high-towering bluffs, with no houses on either side. He desired a quiet place for settling the matter of the fare. They had reached the spot which is called Inspiration Point, when the fleeing passenger rapped on the glass which separated him from the chauffeur's seat. "Stop 'er!" he shouted. The car ground to a halt, and Haskins leaped out, cursing volubly. "Lost ring--diamond ring--slipped right off my finger. That rock cost me eight hundred bucks," was the excuse he gave. The driver stared suspiciously, for his fare did not look like a man who would own an eight-hundred-dollar diamond ring. "Aw, watcha handin' me?" he growled skeptically. Haskins looked up and down the Drive. The nearest car was some distance away. His hand slipped to his pocket for the automatic he had taken from Sergeant Tish. At the same instant he sprang forward. He did not shoot, but brought the butt of the weapon down in a vicious swing on the fellow's head. With a grunting, choking groan the latter collapsed into black unconsciousness, still sitting at the wheel.