most of them with pet dogs, and others with male
friends led like lambs to the slaughter. The spectacle of a man in
silk hat out shopping with a lady friend is always a pitiable one. His
very look craves the sympathy of the onlooker, especially if he be
laden with soft-paper parcels.

My brain was awhirl. My only thought was of Sylvia and of her strange
connection with these undesirable persons who had so ingeniously
stolen my money, and who had baited such a fatal trap.

Anxious as I was to get to a telephone and ring up Jack, yet I could
not leave my post--I had promised to await her.

Nearly an hour went by; I entered the shop and searched its labyrinth
of "departments." But I could not distinguish her anywhere. Upstairs
and downstairs I went, inquiring here and there, but nobody seemed to
have seen the fair young lady in black; the great emporium seemed to
have swallowed her up.

It was now noon. Even though she might have been through a
dress-fitting ordeal, an hour was certainly ample time. Therefore I
began to fear that she had missed me. There were several other exits
higher up the street, and also one which I discovered in a side
street.

I returned to her taxi, for I had already paid off my man. The driver
had not seen his "fare."

"I was hailed by the lady close to Chapel Street," he said, "and I
drove 'er to Oxford Street, not far from Tottenham Court Road. We
stood at the kerb for about ten minutes. Then she ordered me to drive
with all speed over 'ere."

"Did you see her speak with any gentleman?"

"She was with a dark, youngish gentleman when they hailed me. She got
in and left 'im in Chapel Street. I heard 'im say as we went off that
he'd see 'er again soon."

"That's all you know of her?"

"Yes, sir. I've never seen 'er before," replied the driver. Then he
added with a smile, "Your man's been tellin' me as how you thought I
had a bank-thief in my cab!"

"Yes, but I was mistaken," I said. "I must have made a mistake in the
cab."

"That's very easy, sir. We're so much alike--us red 'uns."

Sylvia's non-appearance much puzzled me. What could it mean? For
another half-hour--an anxious, impatient, breathless half-hour--I
waited, but she did not return.

Had she, too, cleverly escaped by entering the shop, and passing out
by another entrance?

Another careful tour of the establishment revealed the fact that she
certainly was not there.

And so, after a wait of nearly two hours, I was c