"I guess you noticed the coincidences that happened this evening," he said, sitting on the broad window-seat and lighting a cigarette.
"I feel rather annoyed by Dick, if that is what you mean," Andrew replied in a discouraging tone.
Whitney smiled.
"Not altogether that. One,"—enumerating them on his fingers—"you try to stop his going with the fellow and just about put it over. Two, Staffer mentions the boat and rushes us off in his car. Three, Marshall says the boat's all right and hints Staffer may have mistaken his remarks. Four, we return and find that Dick has changed his plans. Five,—"
"Oh, I'll admit that Staffer is a clever fellow," Andrew interrupted. "I've known that for some time."
"I've an idea that Mackellar's on his trail; and—well, if you need me, I'm ready. You're playing a straight game, and I want you to win. It would be a fine thing for you to save Dick; and Elsie expects it of you. Then, Staffer knows he's up against you. Keep it at that; it's quite enough for the present."
"You mean there's something else going on?" Andrew said in a curiously quiet voice.
"Of course! But you want to let Staffer think you're only fighting him for your cousin. He can understand that and won't suspect you of guessing he's engaged in another game. I'll play up to you as much as I can. Staffer doesn't take much stock in me."
"But what object can he have?"
"Can't say," Whitney answered non-committally. "But he may be forced to show his hand. Well, I'll get along to bed."