"Fine," answered Peter, who was seated directly behind him. He leaned forward and spoke in a friendly, confidential manner. "We want to find out something about the lady you took from over there," he pointed in the direction of Waverly Place, "yesterday afternoon. She went away without leaving any address, and something has happened which makes it necessary for her friends to locate her at once, see?" The driver nodded his comprehension. "I want to be sure it's the lady we're looking for. It's an apartment house, you know," Peter explained, rapidly, "so perhaps you'll describe her to us." "Well," said the driver, hesitatingly, "I don't know as I can tell you so much what she looked like. She was dressed plain, in something dark, though blue or black or what, I couldn't be so sure. She come hurrying along around the corner, but I was part way down the line, so I wasn't much interested, though she did seem to be lookin' for a taxi. She sorta gave the once-over to the two guys that was ahead of me, and then she stepped right up, quick, to my cab, and she says, lookin' at me sharp through her veil, 'Could you carry a heavy trunk down three flights of stairs by yourself?' she says. It was kinda unexpected, 'cause they usually gets you to the place and then springs it. 'I'll make it worth your while if you can manage it alone,' she says, flashing a five at me. 'It's this, over and above the fare,' she says, kinda nervous and excited like. 'You're on, lady,' I says. 'Lead me to that trunk!' I says, just like that. So she told me Ninety-nine Waverly Place, and I took her there and carried down the trunk, and, be gobs, it was heavy enough, and maybe worth the money at that." Morris was listening eagerly to every word. He could keep silence no longer. "But the lady!" he said, excitedly. "Tell us more about her. Was she very tall and slender and beautiful?" Clancy touched his arm. He was afraid that the chauffeur, if given a clear description, would think he had seen what Morris so evidently wished him to have seen. "You describe her in your own way, Bill," he interposed, addressing the driver, "but tell us everything you noticed about her. How about it, was she tall?" "How'd you know my name was Bill?" asked the driver, irrelevantly, with a grin, and without waiting for a reply, he went on, "I don't think the lady was so very tall; at least not so you'd notice it particular, but she was sorta thin, and she kinda stooped a little. She had on a thick veil, so I didn't see her face hardly any when she come up to me on the street--only her eyes, and they was big and kinda--burning." He hesitated a little. Evidently his powers of description were not often put to the test. "Well," said Peter, as the man paused, "you went up to the apartment with her to get the trunk. I think you said you carried it down three flights of stairs. That would have made it the floor next to the top one, wouldn't it?"