ke THAT. "Niver in my cab," asseverated honest Mulvihill. "I've been
hacking it for twenty years and carried some quare cargoes. But of that
sort--no, sorr!"

Clearly there was nothing to be learned from the cabman, and he was
undoubtedly sincere in his protestations. The little peculiarities of
costume that had originally caught my eye were obviously unsuited for
public wear. The fez and the black bag had probably been brought into
use after the men of mystery had entered the cab, and it was only
through the accident of the suddenly released window-shade that Esper
Indiman and I had seen what we did. "No thoroughfare" stood out plainly
on this particular road. Then the humor took me to try conclusions with
Chance herself, the method a la Indiman. I chucked a silver dollar to
the cabman. "Whatever it's worth to you in time and distance," I said.
"Don't ask me any questions--go as you please."

Hackman Mulvihill was a humorist in his way and he wanted to spare his
horse. Six times in succession we made the circuit of Madison Square
and never once off the walk. I was on the point of protesting, but I
remembered the rules of the game and held my tongue. Finally, we
started down-town by way of Fourth Avenue. Near Sixteenth Street and
Union Square the cab pulled up to the curb, an intimation that my
chartered voyage was over.

"And now which way?" I inquired, smilingly.

Mr. Mulvihill regarded me with compassionate and somewhat unflattering
interest. "Be glory!" he said, frankly, "it's Bellevue that ye'll be
wanting afore long, and badly, too. Come, now, jist jump in again and
I'll rowl ye up there quiet and peaceable like. A touch of liver, sorr.
I know how it takes them. Maning a drop too much of the 'red-eye,'" he
added, under his breath. "Quiet, there, Noddy, ye black divil."

It was with some difficulty that I convinced this good Samaritan of my
mental and physical equilibrium. Finally he drove off, wagging his head
doubtfully.

"But which way?" I shouted after him. He would not answer in words, but
pointed eastward with his whip-stock. Eastward then it was.

Between Union Square and Second Avenue there are several blocks of
dwelling-houses--a once fashionable and still highly respectable
residential neighborhood. The particular street does not matter, but I
was proceeding in the general direction of Stuyvesant Square and had
crossed Third Avenue.

Being on the lower or shady side it was something of a surprise