ce a wide berth. As matters now
stood, my chief concern at the moment was to decide whether or not I
could reach there before the impending storm broke. For a time I had
thought of spending the night at the inn at Pinhoe, but, after a careful
examination of the wind-swept sky and the masses of dun colored clouds
rolling up from the southwest, I decided that I could cover the
intervening five miles and reach the Half Moon Hotel in High street
before the coming of the storm. I had left Pinhoe perhaps half a mile to
the rear, when the strong southwest gale whipped into my face some drops
of cold, stinging rain which gave me warning that my calculations as to
the proximity of the storm had been anything but correct. I hesitated,
uncertain whether to go forward in the face of the gale, or to beat a
hasty retreat to the village, when I heard behind me the sound of an
approaching automobile.

The car was proceeding at a moderate speed, and as I stepped to the side
of the road to allow it to pass, it slowed up, and I heard a gruff, but
not unpleasant, voice asking me whether I could point out the way to
Major Temple's place. I glanced up, and saw a tall, heavily built man,
of perhaps some forty years of age, leaning from the rear seat of the
motor. He was bronzed and rugged with the mark of the traveler upon him,
and although his face at first impressed me unpleasantly, the impression
was dispelled in part at least by his peculiarly attractive smile. I
informed him that I could not direct him to the place in question, since
I was myself a comparative stranger to that part of England. He then
asked me if I was going toward Exeter. Upon my informing him not only
that I was, but that I was particularly desirous of reaching it before
the coming of the rain, he at once invited me to get into the car, with
the remark that he could at least carry me the major part of the way.

I hesitated a moment, but, seeing no reason to refuse the offer, I
thanked him and got into the car, and we proceeded toward the town at a
fairly rapid rate. My companion seemed disinclined to talk, and puffed
nervously at a long cheroot. I lighted my pipe, with some difficulty on
account of the wind, and fell to studying the face of the man beside me.
He was a good-looking fellow, of a sort, with a somewhat sensuous face,
and I felt certain that his short, stubby black mustache concealed a
rather cruel mouth. Evidently a man to gain his ends, I thought, without