. . . It might he just as well for Ruthven to stroll up that
way and see for himself. The house was known as the Willow Villa. Any
hackman could drive him past it.
As Hallam was speaking the New York train came thundering in, and the
young lawyer, facing the snowy clouds of steam, swung his suit-case and
himself aboard. On the Pullman platform he paused and looked around and
down at Ruthven.
"It's just as you like," he said. "If you'd rather come back with me on
this train, come ahead! It isn't absolutely necessary that you make a
personal inspection now; only that fellow Selwyn is not here to-day, and
I thought if you wanted to look about a bit you could do it this
afternoon without chance of running into him and startling the whole
mess boiling."
"Is Captain Selwyn in town?" asked Ruthven, reddening.
"Yes; an agency man telephoned me that he's just back from Sandy Hook--"
The train began to move out of the station. Ruthven hesitated, then
stepped away from the passing car with a significant parting nod to
Hallam.
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