"Get down!" Toffee said quickly and dragged Marc with her to cover beneath the nearest table. The Blemishes followed swiftly after. In the deathly stillness that ensued, the manager and the two policeman advanced menacingly into the room. Then suddenly they stopped as a jangling sound broke the quiet. It was as though a handful of silver had been dropped to the floor somewhere across the room. It was obvious, however, that there was no one in that direction. "Okay, Bill," one of the policemen said. "Let's round 'em up!" In the activity that followed no one noticed the kitchen doors swing open, quietly and slowly, to permit the curious passage of four crawling figures. "I don't know," Toffee said, crawling over the feet of an astonished chef. "I don't know where everyone gets the idea this hotel is so elegant. I've been here only twice and it's been raided both times." CHAPTER X Marc and Toffee, on their feet now and making strides as rapidly as possible, emerged from the alley behind the Wynant and hurried along the sidewalk, bound in the direction of the green convertible. At a distance, the Blemishes scurried along after them with grim determination. Turning the corner at the end of the block, they arrived at the front of the hotel which was now the location of considerable activity. Toffee paused to watch the dining guests being escorted by the police from the hotel to several official conveyances which had arrived under the canopy. "Come on," Marc said. "Get in the car before they see you." Toffee nodded and followed the suggestion. Marc crossed around the car and slid quickly under the wheel. "There still may be time to catch Julie," he said anxiously. Toffee favored him with a sullen stare. "I almost hope there isn't," she said. "For her sake. If she didn't have grounds for divorce before, she's certainly got them now--the way you were dallying around with that French trull...." "I wasn't dallying," Marc said. "I was only trying to get something to eat. Lord knows you were willing to sit there and let me starve to death." He switched on the ignition and started the motor. The car was just pulling out from the curb when the Blemishes arrived in a grim dog trot and placed restraining hands on the edge of the door. Together they regarded Toffee and Marc with baleful hurt. And produced their revolvers. Marc braked the car to a stop. "Golly," Toffee said, turning to Marc. "I forgot all about them." "What do they want?" Marc asked. "You remember," Toffee said. "They captured us up on the roof. They think we're their prisoners." She turned back to the pouting brothers. "Look, boys," she smiled like a patient parent with a pair of fanciful and rather dreadful children, "we just haven't got time to be your prisoners right now. We'd love to, really but we've got to leave. Why don't you call Marc up on the telephone some time and...." The brothers shook their heads in doleful coordination.