ppose, for another?"

Stanistreet had every reason for not wanting to quarrel with Tyson. He
liked a country house that he could run down to when he chose; he liked
a good mount; he liked a faultless billiard-table; and oddly enough, with
all his faults he liked Nevill Tyson. And he had a stronger motive now.
Consciously or unconsciously he felt that his friendship for Tyson was a
safeguard. A safeguard against--he hardly knew what. But the idea of Mrs.
Nevill Tyson was like fire to his dry mood. His brain flared up all in a
moment, though his tongue spoke coolly enough.

"I swear I never did anything of the sort. I haven't seen your wife
for ages--till to-night. We don't correspond. If we did"--he stopped
suddenly--"if I did that sort of thing at all Mrs. Tyson is the very last
person--"

"Oblige me by keeping her name out of it."

Tyson's voice carried far, through the door and across the passage,
penetrating to Pinker in his pantry.

"I didn't introduce it."

"All right. I'm not asking you to lie again. No doubt everybody knows the
facts by this time. I'm going to turn the lights out."

Stanistreet pulled himself together with a shrug. If any other man had
hinted to him, in the most graceful and allegorical manner, that he lied,
it would have been better for that man if he had not spoken. But he
forgave Tyson many things, and for many reasons, one of these, perhaps,
being a certain shamefaced consciousness touching Tyson's wife.

"By the way," said he, "are you going to keep this up very much longer?
It's getting rather monotonous."

Tyson turned and paused with his hand on the door-knob. He snarled,
showing his teeth like an angry cur, irritated beyond endurance.

"If you mean, am I going to take your word for that--frankly, I am not."

He flung the door open and strode out.

Stanistreet followed him.

"I think, Tyson," said he, "if I want to catch that early train
to-morrow, I'd better take my things over to 'The Cross-Roads' to-night."

"Just as you like."

So Stanistreet betook himself to "The Cross-Roads."

CHAPTER IX

AN UNNATURAL MOTHER

Next morning a rumor set out from three distinct centers, Thorneytoft,
Meriden, and "The Cross-Roads," to the effect that Tyson had quarreled
seriously with Stanistreet. His wife, as might be imagined, was the
cause. After a hot dispute, in which her name had been rather freely
bandied about, it seems that Tyson had picked the Captain up by the
s