by a sharp, shrill whistle from the
policeman. Another whistle answered it from a street-corner one block
ahead of him. "Whoa," said Gallegher, pulling on the reins. "There's one
too many of them," he added, in apologetic explanation. The horse
stopped, and stood, breathing heavily, with great clouds of steam rising
from its flanks.

"Why in hell didn't you stop when I told you to?" demanded the voice,
now close at the cab's side.

"I didn't hear you," returned Gallegher, sweetly. "But I heard you
whistle, and I heard your partner whistle, and I thought maybe it was me
you wanted to speak to, so I just stopped."

"You heard me well enough. Why aren't your lights lit?" demanded the
voice.

"Should I have 'em lit?" asked Gallegher, bending over and regarding
them with sudden interest.

"You know you should, and if you don't, you've no right to be driving
that cab. I don't believe you're the regular driver, anyway. Where'd you
get it?"

"It ain't my cab, of course," said Gallegher, with an easy laugh. "It's
Luke McGovern's. He left it outside Cronin's while he went in to get a
drink, and he took too much, and me father told me to drive it round to
the stable for him. I'm Cronin's son. McGovern ain't in no condition to
drive. You can see yourself how he's been misusing the horse. He puts it
up at Bachman's livery stable, and I was just going around there now."

Gallegher's knowledge of the local celebrities of the district confused
the zealous officer of the peace. He surveyed the boy with a steady
stare that would have distressed a less skilful liar, but Gallegher only
shrugged his shoulders slightly, as if from the cold, and waited with
apparent indifference to what the officer would say next.

In reality his heart was beating heavily against his side, and he felt
that if he was kept on a strain much longer he would give way and break
down. A second snow-covered form emerged suddenly from the shadow of the
houses.

"What is it, Reeder?" it asked.

"Oh, nothing much," replied the first officer. "This kid hadn't any
lamps lit, so I called to him to stop and he didn't do it, so I whistled
to you. It's all right, though. He's just taking it round to Bachman's.
Go ahead," he added, sulkily.

"Get up!" chirped Gallegher. "Good night," he added, over his shoulder.

Gallegher gave a hysterical little gasp of relief as he trotted away
from the two policemen, and poured bitter maledictions on their heads
for two me