For answer Staveley pushed him gently to one side and, picking up the receiver, gave a number.
“That Whitbury station? That you, Millar? Lord Staveley speaking. Has the London train gone yet? Confound it, then, I’ve missed it. I wanted to catch Dr. Gregg about something. He was on that train, wasn’t he? I thought so. You don’t happen to know if he was going straight through to London, do you? If he’s stopping at Carlisle, I might ring him up there. Thanks, I’ll hold on.”
There was a short pause while he waited, the receiver to his ear.
“Hullo. Yes. He booked through, did he? Yes, that settles it. Thanks very much.”
He replaced the receiver and turned to Fayre.
“Booked to London and had his luggage labelled straight through. Want to let your man know?”
He stood waiting while Fayre put through the trunk call.
“What’s the next move?” he asked. “By Jove, I’m beginning to think you’re right about the doctor!”
“I’d better go up myself and see if Grey’s got anything for me to do there. To-morrow night will be time enough.”
“If it wasn’t for this blessed Cattle Show on Monday I’d come myself. I’m beginning to enjoy this business. I wish it hadn’t been Gregg, though.”