He was surprised and pleased by what he found up there: the jolliest, coziest little room, green rug on the floor, big armchairs of imitation red leather, reading lamp. It was not a room of much aesthetic charm, perhaps, but comfortable, cheerful and homelike, and warm. The rain was drumming loud on the roof and dashing against the windows, and Ross sighed as he looked at the big chairs. But he was beginning to think now. “Take off your coat and make yourself at home,” said Eddy. “No,” Ross objected. “I can’t stay tonight. Didn’t bring my things along.” “Oh, didn’t you?” said Eddy. “Why not?” “Because I didn’t come prepared to stay.” “What _did_ you come for?” asked Eddy. Now, this might be mere idle curiosity, and Ross decided to accept it as that. “No,” he said, slowly. “I’ll go back to the city and get my things.” “It’s raining too hard,” Eddy declared. “It wouldn’t be healthy for you to go out just now, shover.” This was a little too much for Ross to ignore. “Just the same,” he insisted, “I’m going now.” “Nope!” said Eddy. Ross moved forward, and Eddy moved, too, so that he blocked the doorway. He was grinning, but there was an odd light in his eyes. “Now, lookit here!” he said. “You just make yourself comfortable for the night, see?” Ross looked at him thoughtfully. He believed that it would not be difficult to throw this slender youth down the stairs, and to walk out of the garage, but he disliked the idea. “I don’t want to make any trouble, Eddy,” he explained, almost mildly. “But I’m going.” “Nope!” said Eddy. Ross took a step forward. Eddy reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a revolver. “Nope!” he said again. “What!” cried Ross, astounded. “Do you mean—” “Tell you what I mean,” said Eddy. “I mean to say that I know who you are, and what you come for, and you’re going to sit pretty till tomorrow morning. That’s what I mean.” He spoke quite without malice; indeed, his tone was good-humored. But he was in earnest, he and his gun; there was no doubt about it. It was not Ross’s disposition to enter into futile arguments. He took off his overcoat, sat down, calmly took out a cigarette and lit it. “I see!” he remarked. “But I’d like to know who I am, and what I came for. I’d like to hear your point of view.” “Maybe you wouldn’t,” said Eddy. “Anyway, that can wait. Got to see about feeding you now.” He locked the door behind him and dropped the key into his pocket. Then he opened another door leading out of the sitting room, disclosing a small kitchen. “Last shover we had, he was a married man,” he explained. “Him and his wife fixed the place up like it is. I been living here myself, lately. Let’s see—I got pork and beans, cawfee, cake—good cake—cook over at the house made it. How does that strike you?” “Good enough!” answered Ross, a little absently.