“It’s a fine old place,” replied Dimmock, “and you and your chum should feel highly flattered at being entertained here. The family, as it fortunately happens for Tibbits and the rest of us, are in Europe this summer.”
“Then you haven’t any right here?”
“We have borrowed the use of the house. Tibbits has the run of the place, and we’re here by his invitation.”
Sanders got back and started the car slowly. The gravel road wound through the trees, and finally the searchlights flashed out upon the front of a large mansion. The great house was silhouetted against the sky, and the car lights swept the front door as the machine turned and halted at the broad front steps.
A glow appeared suddenly in the fanlight over the door. Sanders gave three quick, sharp blasts of the horn. This seemed to be a signal, for the door opened as if by magic, and a man showed darkly in the entrance.
“That you, Dimmock?” called the man.
“Who else could it be, Tibbits?” answered Dimmock. “Did you get here safely with McGlory?”
“Yes. And you? Have you got Motor Matt?”
“We have.”
An exclamation of satisfaction fell from Tibbits’ lips.