ad started
off on their mysterious trips at eight sharp. His intention was to get
away ahead of them and pick them up somewhere outside the city limits.

Jane had promised that she would be on hand promptly. Once more he
looked impatiently at his watch. It lacked just half a minute of the
quarter, but there was no sign of his fellow operative. The only person
visible in the block was a boy strolling carelessly in his direction.
With a muttered exclamation of annoyance Dean restored his watch to his
pocket, debating with himself how long he ought to wait and whether or
not he had better wait if she did not appear soon. Very possibly, he
realized, something entirely unforeseen might have detained her or have
prevented her coming. Perhaps her family had doubted her story that she
was going off on an all-day motor trip with a friend? Maybe their
suspicions had been aroused by his having reported sick? He had almost
decided to go on alone when he observed that the boy he had seen
approaching was standing beside the motorcycle.

"Good morning, Thomas," said the boy, a little doubtfully, as if not
quite sure that it was he.

Dean gasped in astonishment. The boy's voice was the voice of Jane.
Laughing merrily at his amazement and discomfiture, she climbed into the
seat beside him, asking:

"How do you like my disguise?"

"It's great," he cried. "You fooled me completely, and I was expecting
you."

"When Chief Fleck said I ought to disguise myself for fear that the
Hoffs already suspected me, I happened to remember these clothes. I had
them once for a play we gave in school."

"But you don't even walk like a girl."

Jane laughed again.

"I practised that walk for days and days. When I first put on this suit
my brother hooted at the way I walked. He said no girl ever could learn
to walk like a boy. I made up my mind I'd show him."

"But your hair," protested Dean, almost anxiously. Even if he was just
now assuming the humble role of chauffeur he still was an ardent admirer
of such hair as Jane's, long, black and luxurious.

"Tucked up under my cap," laughed the girl, "and for fear it might
tumble down, I brought this along. It's what the sailor boys call a
'beanie,' isn't it?"

As she spoke she adjusted over her head a visorlike woolen cap that left
only her face showing.

"But your mother--didn't she wonder about your wearing those clothes?"

"She was in bed when I left. All she caught was just a glimpse of me