Billings flushed and shifted about uneasily.
"I can't, miss," he muttered.
"Why not, Mr. Billings?"
The driver stole a glance at her earnest face, and saw nothing there but sad surprise.
"Why not?" Clara gave the man no help by suggesting a possible excuse.
"My carriage is engaged—that is," he blurted, "I haven't got any carriage that would be fit for you."
"What is the matter with the one in which you took Mr. Strobel?"
"It got smashed up and is being repaired. You see," and he mumbled his words so that they were almost unintelligible, "the same day a party of toughs hired it; they were kind o' swell toughs, and they got on a racket, and the carriage was damaged. 'Tain't fit to use."
"Mr. Billings!" Clara spoke with a sudden energy that startled the driver, "was Mr. Strobel in the carriage when it was damaged?"