“Are you sick?” she asked, not kindly, but imperatively and with a tone, perhaps, of disgust.

“Yes,” said the legless man briefly, but without going into any explanation of his ailment.  “You came to tell me that I mustn’t go away till the bust is finished.  Is that it?”

Barbara felt more at her ease.  “Yes,” she said, “I am selfish about it.  It means so much to me.”

“Well, you needn’t have come,” said Blizzard, and it was almost as if he was angry with her for having done so.  “I’ve changed my plans.  I’ve had to change them.  I stay.”

Barbara was immensely pleased.  “I wish I could tell you how glad I am,” she said.

“The thing now,” said Blizzard, “is to get you back to your house.  You shouldn’t have come to this part of the city at all; and especially not dressed like that.  But you didn’t stop to think.  You had an idea in your head.  And you came.  Did anybody know where you were going when you left home?”

She shook her head.

“Something dreadful might have happened to you,” he said, and a curious smile played about his mouth for a moment, “and no one the wiser.  Suppose you hadn’t found me here to look after you?  Suppose you’d found some drunken crook just out of Sing Sing, or something worse?”

“But I did find you,” said Barbara, “and all is well.”

“Yes—­yes,” he said, “all is well.  And you may thank your stars for that.  Why didn’t you tell your taxi to wait?”

“But I did.”

Again the curious smile flickered about the legless man’s mouth.  “Well, he’s gone.”

Barbara followed the lead of Blizzard’s eyes, and saw that the street in front of his manufactory was empty.  He reached for his crutches, and swung himself down from his chair.

“Perhaps he’s dropped down to Jake’s saloon.  Wait here.  I’ll see.”

The bell of the outer door clanged with horrid suddenness.  And then she heard a piercing loud whistle twice repeated.  And a few moments later the sound of a motor.

“All right, Miss Ferris, I’ve got him.”

She drew her cloak together, and joined the legless man on the sidewalk.

“Thank you very much,” she said, “and good-by till to-morrow.”

The taxicab driver’s face had no expression whatever.  He who understood driving so well could not make out what the master was driving at.

Blizzard held open the door of the taxi, and Barbara got in.  But he did not at once close the door.  Instead he turned his head and looked up the street.  Then he called out sharply: 

“Hurry up!  Can’t you see the lady’s waiting.”

One came, running; a tall well-built youth, with an expression on his face of cool, cynical courage and good humor.

“Miss Ferris,” said Blizzard, “this young fellow will ride in with you if you don’t mind.  You can drop him when you get out of the East Side, and reach your own part of the city.  He will see that no harm comes to you.  If you ask him questions he will answer them.  Otherwise he will not speak unless you wish.”