ood and turned back to the nearest
police station. It's easy to be a prophet after the event; and between
what a man ought to do and what he does do on any given occasion, there
is often a pretty considerable margin when it comes to the facts. I
drove Benny willingly, not thinking anything at all about the matter.
When he stopped in the town of Royston and said he would take a cup of
tea with a cork to it, I thought it just the sort of thing such a man
would do. And I was ready myself for a cigarette and a stroll
round--for sitting all that time in the car makes a man's legs stiff,
and no mistake about it. But I wasn't away more than ten minutes, and
when I got back to the hotel "Benny" was already fuming at the door.

"Where have you been to?" he asked in a voice unlike his own--the voice
of a man who knows "what's what" and will see that he gets it. "Why
weren't you with the car?"

"Been to the telegraph office," said I quietly, for no bluster is going
to unship me--not much.

"Telegraph office!" and here his face went white as a sheet, "what the
devil did you go there for?"

"What people usually go for, sir--to send a telegram."

We looked each other full in the face for a moment, and I could see he
was sorry he had spoken.

"I suppose you wanted to let your friends know," he put it to me. I
said it was just that--for such was the shortest way out of it.

"Then get the car out at once and keep to the Newmarket Road. I shall
sleep at the Randolph Arms to-night."

I made no answer and we got away again. But, for all that, I thought a
lot, and all the time the White was flying along that fine bit of road,
I was asking myself why Benny turned pale when he heard I had sent a
telegram. Was this business with the girl, then, something which might
bring trouble on us both? Was he the man he represented himself to be?
Those were the questions I could not answer, and they were still in my
head when we reached the village of Whittlesford and Benny suddenly
ordered me to stop.

"This looks a likely inn," he said, pointing to a pretty little house
on the right-hand side of the road; "I think we might stop the night
here, lad. They'll give us a good bed and a good glass of whisky,
anyway, and what does a man want more? Run the car into the yard and
wait while I talk to them. You won't die if we don't get to Newmarket
to-night, I suppose?"

I said that it was all one to me, and put the car into the yard. T