He had had this look, though, and had gained a pretty accurate impression of the stranger. A tall young fellow, fair haired and gray eyed; he was stalwart and broad shouldered, and altogether manly, but there was in his face something singularly gentle and engaging.
“And that’s the fellow!” thought Ross. “That’s the fellow who’s going to be fooled and lied to.”
He liked him. And he liked the vigorous and blustering Mr. Solway, and he liked this rational, masculine conversation. It[Pg 458] reassured him. He reflected that, after all, he was not alone in this miserable affair, not hopelessly cornered with the preposterous girl. No; Solway was her stepfather, and the other man was her “Gayle.” They were in it, too. They were his natural allies.
“She’s got to tell them, that’s all,” he said to himself. “They’ll both stand by her. I’ll make her tell them. I can’t handle this infernal mystery alone. I’m too much in the dark.”
He drove in at the gates, up the driveway, and stopped the car before the house with a smartness that pleased him. Mr. Solway bounced out.
“Here, now!” he said. “You—Moss—Moss, that’s it. Moss, just lend a hand with this bag. That’s right; up the stairs—first door on the left. That’s it! That’s it! There you are, Gayle, my boy!”
He turned to Ross.
“Moss,” he said. “Everything going along all right? That’s it! That’s it! You let me know if there’s anything wrong.”
Ross was hard put to it to suppress a smile. He imagined how it would be if he should say:
“Well, sir, there was one little thing—a dead man under the housekeeper’s sofa. But, perhaps I shouldn’t mention it.”