"Nowhar, suh—dat is, he didn’t stop a single place. He just walked and walked everywhar and anywhar. It didn’t make no odds to him, jest so he was movin’ his laigs. He must ’a’ covered five good miles in de most zigzag travellin’ you ever seed—went clean to de gate o’ de Exposition grounds, an’ den back, an’ plumb round de Capitol and out Washington Street, wid me on his scent like a blood-hound after a runaway nigger; but dar wasn’t much danger o’ me bein’ seen, fer he didn’t look round. Well, he finally turned an’ come home an’ tumbled in baid about two in de mawnin’. Yesterday de Williamson ladies an’ deir maw driv’ up to de do’ an’ axed about ’im. Dey said he was down on de list fer dinner at dey house, an’, as he didn’t come or send no word, dey ’lowed he was laid up sick. De lawd knows, I didn’t know what to tell ’em. I’ve got myse’f in trouble befo’ now lyin’ fer white men widout knowin’ what I was lyin’ about, an’ I let dat chance slide, an’ told ’em I didn’t know a blessed thing about it. Dey driv’ off in a big huff; all three dey backs was as straight as a ironin’-board." "Have you any idea where he is now?" Sively inquired, anxiously. "I think he’s over at de club, suh. De waiters in de café told me dat he makes a habit o’ loungin’ round de back smokin’-room by hisse’f." "Drinking?" "No, suh—dat is, not any mo’n he kin tote. He walks straight enough, it jest seems like it’s some’n’ wrong in his mind, Marse Sively," and Pomp touched his black brow significantly. "Well," Sively said, after a moment’s reflection, "order the horses and trap. If I can find him I’ll take him out to the Driving Club. I’m glad I got back. I’ll take him in hand. Between me and you, Pomp, I think he’s had bad news from his father. I’m afraid my uncle has really laid down the law to him, cut off his spending-money, or something of the kind." XXX In the darkest corner of the quietest room in the club, Sively found his cousin gloomily smoking a cigar, a bottle of brandy on a table near him, and a copy of Luke King’s paper on the floor at his feet. As he looked up his eyes had a shifting glare in them, and there was an air of utter dejection on him, though, on recognizing his cousin, he made a valiant effort to appear at ease. "Oh, you are back, are you?" he said, awkwardly, flicking the ashes of his cigar over a tray. "Yes, just in, old boy, and I’ve got my horses out for a spin to the Driving Club. Come along. The whole town is out on wheels; the afternoon is perfect. The idea of your sitting cooped up here, in smoke thick enough to cut with an axe, when you ought to be filling your lungs with ozone and enjoying life!" Langdon hesitated, but it was evident that he could formulate no reasonable excuse for declining the invitation, and so he reluctantly gave in. "Let me get my hat," he said, and together they strolled down the wide entrance-hall to the hat-rack.