It was just as he had pictured it, only more
beautiful.
Kirk nearly upset his little old lady, who was struggling into her
equipage. He swept his armful of bundles into the coach, seized
his scandalized companion under the arms, and deposited her bodily
upon a seat. Without waiting to hear from her, he dashed away
through the bedlam. Under horses' heads he went, past flying hoofs
and scraping wheels, jostling pedestrians, and little, brown
policemen, until he had reached the outskirts of the crowd, where
he vaulted into a vacant vehicle and called upon the driver to
whip up.
"Quick! Quick! Follow that tan-colored surrey! I'll give you a
dollar gold not to lose sight of it."
With the blandest of smiles the coachman started his horses, then,
turning, he inquired, politely:
"'Otel Tivoli?"
"No, NO! Follow that carriage!"
"No sabe Ingles!" said the coachman.
Before Kirk had succeeded in making him understand, the street had
become jammed with carriages and the Peruvian mare was lost to
sight. After a half-hour of futile clattering back and forth, Kirk
dismissed the driver.
But there was no doubt that she had recognized him, and nothing
now could prevent him from continuing his search. The trouble was
that his present occupation allowed him no opportunity.
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