"Now you move.

Here comes a copper, and if he gets those bonds for evidence I won't see them again for months." A policeman appeared in the exact center of the perspective, followed by a faithful emissary of the Ember Detective Agency.
"The bonds are no good to you just now unless Gresham assigns them," insisted Loring almost tearfully, and both Constance and Polly gave up in despair.
"That's right," agreed Johnny, glancing over his shoulder at the policeman and the indignant detective.

Suddenly he pushed Gresham headlong into the midst of the party and jumped in after him.

"Hold him, Loring!" he directed, and dismissed the stupefied Gresham from his mind.
With remarkable deftness he had extracted a single bill from his pocket and thrust it into the hand of the experienced chauffeur.
"Break the limit!" he tensely ordered.
"Where ?" asked the chauffeur, whirling out of the line with a jerk.
"Any place," and the chauffeur, being a night worker and understanding his business, accepted that direction with grinning relish and left the depot policeman trying to remember the number of his machine.
As they went up the incline from the ticket-lobby door Johnny arranged the bewildered girls on the two little front seats, and wedged the cowed Gresham carefully in between himself and Loring on the back seat.
The chauffeur, knowing the only regular time-killing drive in the city, hit out for Central Park.

Gresham was incapable of thought or action.
As they crossed Forty-second Street Johnny touched his driver on the shoulder, and that handy criminal came to an immediate halt at the curb.