"Well?" Matthias asked as the machine shot across-town.
"Beg pardon, sir," the man replied after a moment—"but I'd rather not say anything, if it's all the same to you."
"It isn't," Matthias insisted curtly. "I'm not on sufficiently friendly terms with Mr. Marbridge for him to send for me without explanation."
"Yes, sir; but you see, part of my job is to keep my mouth shut."
"I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to forget that duty to some extent, or else stop the car and let me out."
"Very good, sir. I don't suppose I can do any harm telling what little I know. After supper tonight, Mr. Marbridge told me to take the car to the garage and not to expect a call for it until sometime tomorrow morning; but when I got there, he was already wanting me on the telephone. He said there'd been an accident, and told me to find Mr. Arlington first and then you, and ask you to come immediately."
"But why me?" Matthias asked, more of himself than of the driver.
"He didn't say, sir."
"Did he state what sort of an accident?"
"No, sir."