"The engine won't move her. How are we going to get her out?" he said.
"I could give you a pull, sir," John replied with respectful gravity, "They keep a rope at the station for shunting. Perhaps you had better send the driver, sir."
X
THE DROVE ROAD
Foster spent the next day lounging about Edinburgh and looking out for Daly, whom he had expected to follow him. He, however, saw nothing of the man, and felt half disappointed, because he missed the excitement of the chase. It was too cold and wet to roam the streets with much enjoyment, there was no good play at the theaters, and he had seen picture palaces in Canada. Moreover, he had led an active life, and having nothing to do soon began to get irksome. It was curious that he had never felt bored at the Garth, even when he scarcely saw Alice during the day, but then the Garth had a peculiar charm. It was possible that Daly had gone back there, and he had been a fool to leave.
He was sitting in the hotel smoking-room next morning when a stranger came up and sat down close by. The man had a quiet, thoughtful air, and lighted his pipe. There was nothing about him to indicate his rank or occupation, and Foster wondered what he wanted.
"I hope you won't object to my asking if you're a Canadian?" he said.
"I don't know if I object or not. Anyhow, I'm English."
"But perhaps you have been in Canada," the stranger remarked politely.
Foster looked hard at him. "I haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance, but had better hint that you're wasting time if you're a friend of Daly's."