Have you ever seen a cornered rat, Evan?"
Blount had got upon his feet and was buttoning his coat.
"I don't know how much or how little you know about what has taken place
this afternoon, Mrs. Blount," he broke out hastily, "but I can tell you
this much: I am my father's son now, whatever I have been in the past,
and if he is in danger, my place is with him. Tell me where he has
gone."
The little lady's eyes were demurely downcast. "I shouldn't dare tell
you that, but--but perhaps I might show you. I didn't promise not
to--not to follow him," she returned with exactly the proper shade of
half-frightened reluctance.
"Is it far?" he asked.
"Y-yes; we should have to drive."
"Excuse me for a minute or two," he said abruptly, and, making a bolt
for the elevator, he was back almost within the limit named with a
top-coat for himself and a driving-wrap for his companion. "I broke into
your suite and made Patricia give me the wrap," he explained. "If it
isn't what you want, I'll try again."
"It will do nicely," she told him; and together they went down the broad
marble stair to the ground-floor.
"Do we take a cab?" he asked, when they reached the sidewalk.
"No; it's only a short walk to the garage, and we can take the
touring-car."
"I'm entirely in your hands," he rejoined; and then: "Perhaps you'd
better take my arm.
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