"It doesn't matter; we may meet him," Whitney answered carelessly; and he and Andrew strolled away.
"Well," he said, "we have learned something! It seems Williamson's in the habit of hiring a motorcycle here. Has he any friends in Galloway who might give him some shooting?"
"None that I know of," Andrew replied with a puzzled look.
"I guess you noted that he makes a curious choice of a machine. She's good—I know that make—but I can't see why he picks a single-cylinder lightweight when they've several full-powered machines on the stand. Looks as if he expected he'd have to wheel her. What's the Castle Douglas road like?"
"It's the highway to the west, and we keep our main roads in good order."
"You certainly do," Whitney agreed. "But I stick to my opinion that he has some particular reason for choosing a light machine." He hesitated a moment. "I don't want to butt in, and as the fellow's a family friend, it's delicate ground; but if you feel you'd like a run through Galloway—"
"Perhaps we'd better go; but we'll see first what Mackellar has to say."
They walked down to the bridge foot, to pass the time; and in the meanwhile Mackellar received Williamson.
"You wished to see me?" he said.
Williamson took out the bills and the lawyer's letters and put them on Mackellar's desk.