Ethan was silent a moment, smoking furiously. Then,
“Tell Farrell to come in here at once, Billings. And I’m much obliged for what you’ve told me. Oh, wait, Billings! Throw another log on the fire first. I don’t want it to go out; you and I have got lots to talk about to-night!”
Farrell came speedily.
“Do you know where Ellington, Massachusetts, is?” asked Ethan.
“Yes, sir.”
“How long a run is it?”
Farrell produced a road map from his coat pocket and bent over it under the light.
“Well, Mr. Parmley, I don’t know how the roads are now, sir, but supposing they’re in fair condition we’d ought to do it in about two and half hours.”
“Then if we left here at seven in the morning we’d get to Ellington by noon?”
“Couldn’t help it, sir, barring accidents.”