"You're right, it would queer _you_," he said abruptly. "Clear out--both of you." "And you?" "You're going to stay?" said Schley. Neither could face his eyes. "Clear out, I tell you!" When Burke came running down the steps he looked at Stover in surprise. "Hello, where are your friends?" "They had other engagements," said Dink grimly. "All ready." "I've seen your face before," said Dr. Burke, climbing in. "I'm Stover." "Dink Stover of the eleven?" "Yes, Dink Stover of the eleven," said Stover, his face hardening. "Where do I drive?" "Do you want to go quietly?" said Dr. Burke, with a look of sympathetic understanding. From behind the girl, writhing, began to moan: "Oh, Doctor--Doctor--I can't stand it--I can't stand it." "What's the quickest way?" said Stover. "Chapel Street," said the doctor. Stover turned the horses' heads into the thoroughfare, looking straight ahead, aware soon of the men who saw him in the full light of the day, driving through the streets of New Haven in such inexplicable company. And suddenly at the first turn he came face to face with another carriage in which were Jean Story and her mother. CHAPTER XXVI When Stover returned to his rooms, it was long after supper. "Where the deuce have you been?" said Hungerford, looking up from his books. "Went for a drive, got home late," said Stover shortly. He filled the companionable pipe, and sank into the low arm-chair, which Regan had broken for comfort. Something in his abrupt procedure caused Bob Story to look over at Regan with an inquiring raise of his eyebrows. "Got this psychology yet?" said Hungerford, to try him out. "No," said Stover. "Going to get it?" "No." "The thinghood of a thing is its indefinable somewhatness," said Hungerford, with another slashing attack on the common enemy, to divert Stover's attention. "What in the name of peanuts does that stuff mean?" Dink, refusing to be drawn into conversation, sat enveloped in smoke clouds, his eyes on the clock. "Hello, I forgot," said Story presently. "I say, Dink, Troutman and Schley were around here hallooing for you." "They were, eh?" "About an hour ago. Wanted to see you particularly. Said they'd be around again." "I see." At this moment from below came a bellow: "Oh, Dink Stover--hello above there!" "That's Troutman now," said Joe Hungerford. Stover went to the window, flinging it up. "Well, who's there?" "Troutman and Chris Schley. I say, Dink, we've got to see you. Come on down." "Thanks, I haven't the slightest desire to see you now or at any other time," said Stover, who closed the window and resumed his seat, eyeing the clock. His three friends exchanged troubled glances, and Regan began to whistle to himself, but no questions were asked. At nine o'clock Stover rose and took his hat. "I'm going out. I may be back late," he said, and went down the stairs. "What the devil?" said Hungerford, closing his book. "He's in some scrape," said Regan ruthfully.