He merely stared at her out of his slightly protruding eyes as though she were speaking an unfamiliar language. "Jim," said Quarren, "would you mind taking me as a passenger?" Wycherly, reckless enough anyway, balked a little at the proposition: "That Stinger is too light and too tricky I'm afraid." "Isn't she built for two?" "Well, I suppose she _could_ get off the ground with you and me----" "All right; let's try her?" "Jim! I won't let you," said his wife. "Don't be silly, Molly. Rix and I are not going up if she won't take us----" "I forbid you to try! It's senseless!" Her husband laughed and finished his whisky and soda. Then twirling his motor goggles around his fingers he stood looking at Strelsa. "You're a pretty little peach," he said sentimentally, "and I'm sorry Molly is here or----" "Do _you_ care?" laughed Strelsa, looking around at him over her shoulder. "_I_ don't mind being adored by _you_, Jim." "Don't you, sweetness?" "Indeed I don't." Wycherly started toward her: Langly Sprowl, who neither indulged in badinage nor comprehended it in others, turned a perfectly expressionless face on his host, who said: "You old muffin head, did you ever smile in your life? You'd better try now because I'm going to take your best girl away from you!" Which bored Sprowl; and he turned his lean, narrow head away as a sleek and sinister dog turns when laughed at. Strelsa slipped clear of the piano and vanished, chased heavily by Wycherly. Molly said: "It's time to dress, good people. Langly, your man is upstairs with your outfit. Come, Chrysos, dear--Rix, have you everything you want?" she added in a low voice as he stood aside for her to pass: "Have you _everything_, Ricky?" "Nothing," he said. "The little minx! _Is_ it Langly?" "Yes." "Oh, dear, oh, dear!" And, aloud: "Jim! Do let Langly try out the Stinger to-morrow." Her husband, who had given up his search for Strelsa, said that Sprowl was welcome. People scattered to their respective quarters; Quarren walked slowly to his. Sprowl, passing with his mincing, nervous stride, said: "How's little Dankmere?" "All right," replied Quarren briefly. "Cheap little beggar," commented Sprowl. "He happens to be my partner," said the other. "He suits your business no doubt," said Sprowl with a contempt he took no pains to conceal--a contempt which very plainly included Quarren as well as the Earl and the picture business. Arrived at his door he glanced around to stare absently at Quarren. The latter said, pleasantly: "I don't suppose you meant to be offensive, Sprowl; you simply can't help it; can you?" "What?" "I mean, you can't help being a bounder. It's just in you, isn't it?" For a moment Sprowl's hatchet face was ghastly; he opened his mouth to speak, twice, then jerked open his door and disappeared. CHAPTER X Quarren had been at Witch-Hollow three days when Dankmere called him on the long-distance telephone.