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142 down. "Foiled again! But what I want to know is how the deuce did he get such an accurate line on my plans? How did he know that I was coming here, to the Erie Ferry? It passes me. However, he can't stop us now."

"This isn't the only ferry. There's the Pennsylvania and the Lackawanna—and by hard driving he might even manage to catch the boat that connects with this from the Christopher Street ferry of the Erie!"

"Impossible! I don't believe it! I won't!"

But the incident had served appreciably to chill their spirits. They accomplished the remainder of that voyage in a silence that was ho less depressed because they sat hand in hand throughout.

Nor was their taxicab three minutes out of the ferry-house on the Jersey shore when the girl's fears were amply justified; a shout from behind drew Alan's head out of the window. Marrophat's touring-car was within fifty yards, and Marrophat, standing on the running-board, was shouting inarticulately and flourishing an imperative hand; while the distance between them was momentarily growing less noticeable—since the taxi-motor was not to be expected to develop sufficient power to maintain its lead on a six-cylinder car of the latest and most powerful model.

As Marrophat's car drew abreast Alan said quietly: