This was at seven A.M., Berlin time, which was two A.M., in New York; and owing to the nervousness of an old woman servant, the news reached New York at three A.M., and the big wheels began to go around.
Where was Edward E. Allison? There was nothing the free and entirely uncurbed wanted to know so much as that; but the f. and e. u. was doomed to disappointment in that one desire of its heart. Even as he had stumbled down the steps of the Sargent house, Allison was aware of the hideous thing he had done; aware, too, that Jim Sargent was as violent as good-natured men are apt to be. This thought, it must be said in justice to Allison, came last and went away first. It was from himself that he tried to run away, when he shot his runabout up through the Park and into the north country, and, by devious roads, to a place which had come to him as if by inspiration; the Willow Club, which was only open in the summertime, and employed a feeble old caretaker in the winter. To this haven, bleak and cold as his own numbed soul, Allison drove in mechanical firmness, and ran his machine back into the garage, and closed the doors on it, and walked around to the kitchen, where he found old Peabody smoking a corncob pipe, and laboriously mending a pair of breeches.
“Why, howdy, Mr. Allison,” greeted Peabody, rising, and shoving up his spectacles. “It’s a treat to see anybody these days. I ain’t had a visitor for nigh onto a month. There ain’t any provisions in the house, but if you’d like anything I can run over to the village and get it. I got a jug of my own, if you’d like a little snifter. How’s things in the city?” and still rambling on with unanswered questions and miscellaneous offers and club grounds information, he pottered to the corner cupboard, and produced his jug, and poured out a glass of whiskey.
“Thanks,” said Allison, and drank the liquor mechanically. He was shuddering with the cold, but he had not noticed it until now. He glanced around the room slowly and curiously, as if he had not seen it before. “I think I’ll stay out here over night,” he told Peabody. “I’ll occupy the office. If any one rings the phone, don’t answer.”
“Yes-sir,” replied Peabody. “Tell you what I’ll do, Mr. Allison. I’ll muffle the bell. I guess I better light a fire in the office.”
“Eh? Yes. Oh yes. Yes, you might light a fire.”
“Get you a nice chicken maybe.”
“Eh? Yes. Oh yes. Yes.”
“Chicken or steak? Or maybe some chops.”
“Anything you like,” and Allison went towards the office. At the door he turned. “You’ll understand, Peabody, that I have come here to be quiet. I wish to be entirely alone, with certain important matters which I must decide. If anybody should happen to drop in, get rid of him. Do not say that I am here or have been here.”