"Anne!" she whispered. "For heaven's sake! There 's my cook at the other end of that back seat--the fat, red-headed man. What shall I do?"
Anne, without replying, touched the driver and handed him a two-dollar bill.
"Keep that," she said, "and please let us out at once."
And so, just a bit panic-stricken, but with ardor undimmed, the two awaited the motor car.
"We might have known!" observed Sara. "Do you suppose he recognized me?"
"Of course," said Sara, her face lighting with the humor of the incident. "I shan't care at all, provided he does n't give me notice."
They were quite ready for Armitage when he came up in the car.
"Where to now, Sara?" Anne stamped her foot. "Isn't that the way! When you have the opportunity and the desire for a good time you can't imagine what to do."
"Well, let us get into the car, anyway," said Sara, "those detestable creatures who were in the barge have actually followed us."
So they entered the motor. Armitage turned inquiringly, but Anne shook her head.
"I wanted to ask you, Miss Wellington, if you thought I could get away to-night about seven o'clock?" He glared defiantly at Sara, who was ostentatiously concealing her face in her hand. "I have rather an important engagement."
"Why--" Anne glanced at Sara, who seeing an opening for a new avenue of fun, was now laughing unreservedly.
"You really can't think of it, you know, dear," she said. "Why, at seven o'clock he will just begin to be useful."
Anne saw the chauffeur's shoulders shrug angrily, and it amused her.
"Cut through here and drive toward the Training Station," she commanded, "and we 'll think about seven o'clock, McCall."
Sara, who had been vigorously nodding and screwing up her eyes at Armitage's back, laughed musically.
"Anne," she said, "your chauffeur is badly trained as to manners. Really, he suggests a man graduated from the Fifth Avenue buses, don't you know."
"You must make allowances, Sara; he's only an improvised chauffeur."
"I know; but he 's hardly of the chauffeur type. Now as a detective--can't you imagine him in a pair of false whiskers?"
"I 've always suspected him of a wig," Anne giggled, "or reinforced putees."
With a quick jerking of levers, Armitage stopped the car. He turned around, looked at Sara quietly for a moment and then at Anne. Something in her face told him what he wanted to know.