to my mind.

CHAPTER XXII

THE GRAY MIST

I was about half-way on my return journey when I heard a car racing
along the road behind me, and as it came nearer I detected the fact
that it was slowing down. Ere I could turn:

"Hi! Mr. Addison!" hailed a voice.

I stopped, turned round, and there was Gatton leaning out of the car
and staring towards me through the deepening dusk.

"Why, Gatton!" I said, walking up to him--"I waited more than ten
minutes for you, and then gave it up."

"Waited for me?"

"Yes, by the police-box."

He stared in evident wonder at me and then at the police chauffeur who
drove the car.

"Whatever prompted you to do that?" he said. "Coates must have given
you the wrong message. I said I would come to the house for you, not
meet you in the street."

Still I remained dense to the truth, and:

"I know you did," I replied. "I refer to the second message."

"I sent no second message."

"What!"

"Get in," cried Gatton shortly; "this wants explaining."

I stepped into the car, and as it moved onward again I explained to
the Inspector what had taken place. As I talked I saw his expression
grow darker and darker, until finally:

"There's something wrong!" he muttered.

"Then you did not inspire the message?"

"I know nothing whatever about it. At the time you received it I was
on my way from Crossleys. I have been traveling for the last hour and
a half."

I stared at him very blankly. The object of such a communication was
difficult to imagine, and I knew of nothing incriminating in my
possession, which might have tempted the assassin to lure me from the
house whilst he obtained possession of it.

In ever-growing excitement I watched the houses slipping behind us as
we swept along. Then we came to the tree-lined expanse of road
immediately leading to the cottage. As the car stopped, I leaped out
quickly, Gatton close upon my heels, and ran up the path to the door.

From certain indications with which I was familiar, I observed that
Coates was out, whereby I concluded that he had set off to meet the
mythical "man with a box." Not without apprehension I inserted the key
in the lock and opened the door.

As I did so, I beheld a most singular spectacle.

The careful Coates had closed all the windows as usual before quitting
the house, so that there was comparatively little draught along the
corridor. But as the door swung open I perceived a sort of gray
fog-like vapor