ntil Fiftieth Street was
reached that a block of traffic caused them to halt. An automobile had
collided with a delivery wagon, and a wordy contest was waging between
the driver of the wagon, the chauffeur, one of the occupants of the
automobile and a traffic-squad policeman.

"You don't know your business," a loud voice proclaimed, addressing the
policeman. "If you did you wouldn't be sitting up there like a dummy
already. This here driver run into _us_. We didn't run into him."

It was the male occupant of the automobile that spoke, and in vain did
his fair companion clutch at the tails of the linen duster that he wore;
he was in the full tide of eloquence and thoroughly enjoying himself.

The mounted policeman maintained his composure--the calm of a volcano
before its eruption, the ominous lull that precedes the tornado.

"And furthermore," continued the passenger, throwing out his chest,
whereon sparkled a large diamond enfolded in crimson silk--"and
furthermore, I'll see to it that them superiors of yours down below
hears of it."

The mounted policeman jumped nimbly from his horse, and as Morris rose
in the tonneau of his automobile he saw Max Tuchman being jerked bodily
to the street, while his fair companion shrieked hysterically.

Morris opened the door and sprang out. With unusual energy he wormed
his way through the crowd that surrounded the policeman and approached
the side of the automobile.

"Lady, lady," he cried, "I don't remember your name, but I'm a friend of
Max Tuchman here, and I'll get you out of this here crowd in a minute."

He opened the door opposite to the side out of which Tuchman had made
his enforced exit, and offered his hand to Max's trembling companion.

The lady hesitated a brief moment. Any port in a storm, she argued to
herself, and a moment later she was seated beside Morris in the latter's
car, which was moving up the Avenue at a good twenty-mile gait. The
chauffeur took advantage of the traffic policeman's professional
engagement with Max Tuchman, and it was not until the next mounted
officer hove into view that he brought his car down to its lawful gait.

"If you're a friend of Mr. Tuchman's," said the lady at length, "why
didn't you go with him to the police station and bail him out?"

Morris grinned. "I guess you'll know when I tell it you that my name is
Mr. Perlmutter," he announced, "of Potash & Perlmutter."

The lady turned around and glanced uneasily at Morris. "