“Now, then, by Jove, I think I’d better go back to the young lady,” suddenly decided Abercrombie, for Millard still showed no signs of recovering his senses.  One of the other two men who had been ridden down now recovered enough to begin to crawl away furtively.

“Do you want that chap?” asked Abercrombie.

“I have no facilities for keeping him a prisoner,” Jack answered.  “For that matter, I guess he’s nothing but a hired tough.  The Washington police can find and take care of him at their convenience.”

“Good enough,” nodded the British lieutenant.  “And now—­”

“Would you mind if I go to her, instead?” inquired Benson, hastily.

“Not in the least, dear old fellow.  And, while you’re gone, I’ll constitute myself a special ‘bobby’ to look after this chap of yours in the bracelets.”

So Jack hurried off up the road, wondering how Daisy Huston fared with a revolver and a hostile cabman.

CHAPTER XXIII

“FOREIGN TRADE” BECOMES BRISK

The cab horses were browsing quietly by the roadside.

Miss Daisy looked anything but perturbed.

In fact, she had passed all uneasiness of spirit on to the cab driver.  That worthy had come back to his senses, but Miss Huston had compelled him to sit on the ground, his back to a tree.  She stood a few yards away, watching the surly fellow and holding the pistol as though it were not the first time she had had such a weapon in her hand.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come, Mr. Benson!” cried the girl, with true feminine relief.  “I was so worried about you.  But you’re not hurt—­badly.  I hurried a horseman on to you.  He reached you?”

“Yes, thank you,” nodded Lieutenant Benson.  “And now, Miss Huston, I must inform you that we have Millard—­your Donald Graves—­a prisoner and manacled.  I must first find a way of getting you back into town.  Then I must turn Millard over to the authorities.”

“Why can’t he go back in the same cab with me?” asked Miss Huston, quickly.

“You—­could you endure that?”

“Yes,” replied the girl, bravely.  “I took you to him.  I sent the assistance that enabled you to take him prisoner.  Do not fear for me, Mr. Benson.”

“By Jove, but you’re clear grit, Miss Huston!” Lieutenant Jack cried, admiringly.

“Clear American, I hope,” retorted the girl.  “Why should men be the only ones who can do or dare for the Flag?”

“Will you let me have the revolver, Miss Huston?”

“Gladly.”

“Thank you.  Now, if you will get inside he cab again.”

“And you?”

“I’ll sit with the driver and watch him,”

Jack kept his eye on the surly fellow until Miss Huston was inside the cab.

“Now, fellow, you get up on the box, and handle the reins from the left side,” ordered the young naval officer.