He reached the station, and saw three or four vacant taxis standing there; he selected one and went up to it, and was just about to give his directions when a hand fell on his shoulder. “Well!” said a voice—the most unwelcome one he could have heard. It was Donnelly, grinning broadly. “Well!” said Ross, in a noncommittal tone. His brain was working fast. He couldn’t go to the cottage now. He must somehow get rid of this fellow, and he must invent a plausible reason for being here. “I walked down to get a few things,” he said, “but I guess I won’t try walking back. The roads are too bad.” “You’re right!” said Donnelly, heartily. “Wygatt Road!” Ross told the taxi driver, and got into the cab. “Hold on a minute!” said Donnelly. “I’m going that way, too. I’ll share the cab with you.” “Look here!” cried Ross. “Well?” said Donnelly. “I’m looking.” The unhappy young man did not know what to say. He felt that it would be extremely imprudent to antagonize the man. “All right,” he said, at last, and Donnelly got in beside him. The cab set off, splashing through the melted snow—going back again to that infernal garage. Suppose Donnelly hung about all day? “Where do you want to get out?” he demanded. “To tell you the truth,” said Donnelly, “I was waiting for you.” “Waiting! But—” “I sort of thought you might be coming to the station some time today,” said the other, tranquilly, “and I waited. Wanted a little talk with you.” “What about?” “Well, it’s this. I told you I was looking for a man called Ives.” “And I told you I didn’t—” “Now, hold on a minute! You told me you’d never heard of him. All right. Now, I told you I knew Ives came out to Stamford on Tuesday. That was about all I did know—this morning. But I’ve found out a little more since then.” “What’s that got to do with me?” asked Ross, with a surly air and a sinking heart. “That’s just what I don’t know. On Wednesday you came to Mr. Solway’s house. You didn’t bring anything with you, and you haven’t sent for any bag or trunk, or anything like that. Now, hold on! Just wait a minute! You said you’d come from Cren’s Agency, I’m told. But Cren’s Agency told me on the telephone that— Now, hold on! Don’t lose your temper! You can clear this up easy enough. Just show me your license. Haven’t got it with you, I suppose?” “No!” said Ross. “_All_ right. You’ve left it in the garage. Very well. That’s where you’re going now, isn’t it? Unless—” He paused. “Unless you’d like to come along with me.” “Come—where?” asked Ross. “Why, there’s a little cottage off the Post Road,” said Donnelly. “I’d like to pay a little visit there this morning, and it came into my head that maybe you’d like to come along with me, eh?” XV