He drained the glass, and, twenty minutes later, mounted on his motor cycle, started for Long Island.
CHAPTER IV.
LATE HOURS AT MEADOWVIEW.
Freehold is a sleepy little village on Long Island. It has no railway stations, and its chief claim to distinction rests on the fact that it is intimately associated with the life of a revolutionary hero.
We are speaking now of the village itself, not of its[Pg 10] important neighborhood, for the latter boasts of more than one pretentious country house.
One of these is known far and wide as Meadowview. It’s a great pile of white sandstone, which was built in 1900 by Charles P. Massey, a millionaire banker.
The elder Massey died soon after Meadowview was completed, and it passed into the possession of his son, Francis Massey, who was himself nearing middle age.
At the time of which we write, the great house was occupied by Francis Massey, his wife, two grown daughters, and a large staff of servants.
Meadowview was distant about a mile and a half from Freehold, and was surrounded by spacious grounds.
These grounds were inclosed by a high stone wall, which divided them on two sides from the neighboring estates, on a third from a turnpike much favored by motorists, and on a fourth side from a narrow country lane.
The clock in the tower in one of Freehold’s churches was chiming a quarter to two when Max Berne, seated on his motor cycle, sped swiftly up the Main Street of the little village.