"Mr. Benson, you have been wrapped in so much mystery, so
much deceit, so much lying and treachery that I won't even have you
guess whether I am telling you the truth. Here is my card-case. Take
out a card for yourself."
The request was so much like a command that Benson obeyed. On the card,
in Old English script, he read:
"Miss Daisy Huston."
"I thank you, Miss Huston," he acknowledged, gravely, handing back her
card-case.
"Will you signal the driver to stop?" she requested. They were now
driving through the western part of Washington.
When the driver found himself signaled he reined up, then came to the
cab door.
"You know where to go?" she said.
"Yes," nodded the man.
"Drive there, then."
The driver whipped up his horses to a better speed, the vehicle bowling
along now.
"I very much fear that I am running you into danger," declared Daisy
Huston, soberly. "Mr. Benson, if you decide to leave the cab, or to
have me take you back to the center of the city, I shall not imagine
you to be lacking in courage."
"I cannot be in any greater danger than you are, Miss Huston," Benson
ventured, with a smile.
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