"Staffer. I understand you have a message for him. We're just starting home."
"Ah!" Sanders' voice was quiet, but Dick imagined that he felt some surprise. "You will excuse my remarking that, as a rule, one likes to know something about a messenger."
"Of course; I forgot." Dick took out the cigarette-case. "Staffer is my step-father, and he said you'd know this."
"Then you're Mr. Johnstone of Appleyard?"
Dick nodded and felt that he was being quietly studied. It was obvious that Sanders knew something about him.
"How long have you been in Edinburgh?" he asked, and looked thoughtful when Dick told him.
"Well, I have no message for Mr. Staffer. As a matter of fact, I was expecting some news from him, and have not received it. You might tell him so."
"I see; you can't reply to a message you didn't get. But I'll send him round when I reach the garage, if you like—and there's the telephone."
"You seem to understand the situation," Sanders smiled. "I won't trouble Mr. Staffer, as it is not important. Will you come down and smoke a cigarette?"
"No, thanks. Staffer's waiting," Dick said.