"Not to-night. I'm staying overnight with my uncle in Cobberly Road."
"The 'bus is good enough for me. I haven't forgotten how you ran off
the Peters Bridge last fall," said Carter.
"Hang it, man, he wasn't thinking about bridges that time," said the
cheerful bore. "There was a girl with him. Elea--Ahem! I say, old man,
what the devil time is it? Time for the confounded 'bus? Don't want to
miss the train." He had caught the scowl of warning from Carter and,
for a wonder, understood.
"By the way," said Windomshire, irrelevantly, "what was the
disturbance over in O'Brien's Lane this morning? Anybody hurt? I was
driving the car up Andrews' Hill when I saw the excitement. Couldn't
make it out. Were all of the horses running away?"
"Running away!" roared the blase man, forgetting his pose for the
first time. "Running away!" and he broke into a roar of laughter.
"Why, that was the advance guard of the Faraway Country Club. Good
Lord, did you see them coming in?"
"My word, they were coming in. But what was the rush? I came over to-
night to see if any of the women had been hurt. I could have sworn the
horses were absolutely unmanageable.
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