“We’ll let him alone for a little bit,” laughed Johnny.  “We’ve started him to thinking about it, and I have that appointment with him at eight-thirty to-morrow morning.  Boise does a day’s work before lunch.”

Later, in the bustle of preparing for dinner, Boise sat down by Constance.

“Are you still in favor of the Sage City and Salt Pool route for our new cut-off?” he asked with a smile as he inspected her delicately flushed cheeks and her bright eyes and her shining wavy hair.

“Really, I don’t know very much about it,” she modestly confessed, “but I should think that an all-level route would be much the best.”

At the pier that night at twelve-thirty the party, on account of the lateness of the hour, very hurriedly dispersed.  Johnny and Loring secured a taxi and, with Polly and Constance, headed for Polly’s house where Constance had decided to spend the night.

As they crossed Seventh Avenue Johnny excitedly tapped on the glass in front of him and poking his head out through the other forward window, gave a sharp direction.  The driver, a knobby-jawed and hairy-browed individual, turned and tore down toward the big new terminal station as fast as he could go.

“Gresham,” explained Johnny briefly, peering keenly ahead.

“Well, what about him?” inquired Loring.

“He’s jumping the town.  I don’t trust my detectives.”

“Have you secured some proof?” eagerly inquired Loring.

“No, only evidence,” laughed Johnny at his lawyer, and for the rest of that brief ride neither the breathless girls nor the concentrated men said anything.  They only held tensely forward and helped hurry.

There were three taxis preceding them in the congested line which turned in at the terminal station, and as the vehicles began to slow down Johnny stood on the step.

“If I get in a mix-up you keep this taxi right round where it’ll be handy,” he directed, and ran ahead just as Gresham, as fastidious as ever, emerged at the entrance to the ticket lobby.

Gresham allowed a porter to take all of his hand luggage, with the exception of one small black bag which he carefully carried himself.

“I guess these are those,” observed Johnny in a pleasant conversational tone of voice as he lifted the bag from Gresham’s hand.

Gresham made a desperate grab for the bag, but Johnny gave him a shove with one strong forearm, opened the bag and, diving into it, felt a tight square bundle of papers near the bottom.  Giving them one hasty glance he rushed back, closely followed by Gresham, to the taxi where his friends sat quivering with excitement.

“Hide these,” he ordered.  “Get out of here, quick!” he told the chauffeur.  “Mr. Loring will tell you where to drive.”

“They’re hid all right,” Polly assured him.  “What are they?”

“Amalgamated Steel bonds representing Gresham’s half of my million,” rasped Johnny, throwing Gresham’s weight off his arm.  “Ask me the rest of it the next time we meet.  Just now I have to see to getting this thief pinched.”