coat and cane, and made for the door. There he turned, said grimly, 'I hope to see you again, Mr. Treble,' and was saved the awkwardness of reaching for the knob by my being there to open for him. Outside I got the flashlight from my hip pocket, switched it on, and led the way.
As we navigated the path for the fourth time there were seven or eight things I would have liked to say, but I swallowed them. Noonan and his bud were at our heels and, since Wolfe had evidently decided that we were outmatched, there was nothing for me to do but take it. When, after we were beyond the grove of evergreens, I swung the light up for a glance at the tennis court, there was a deep growl from Wolfe behind, so from there on I kept the light on the path.
We crunched across the gravel to where we had left the car. As I opened the rear door for Wolfe to get in, Noonan, right at my elbow, spoke.
'I'm being generous. I could phone the DA and get an okay to take you in as material witnesses, but you see I'm not. Our car's in front. Stop at the entrance until we're behind. We're going to follow until you're out of the county, and we won't need you back here again tonight or any other time. Got it?'
No reply. I banged the door, opened the front one, slid in beside the wheel, and pushed the starter.
'Got it?' he barked.
'Yes,' Wolfe said.
They strode off and we rolled forward. When we reached the entrance to the Pitcairn grounds and stopped, the accomplice Noonan had stationed there flashed a light at us but said nothing.
I told Wolfe over my shoulder, 'I'll turn right and go north. It's only ten miles to Brewster, and that's in Putnam County. He only said to leave the county, he didn't say which way.'
'Turn left and go to New York.'
'But -'
'Don't argue.'
So when their lights showed behind I rolled on into the highway and turned left. When we had covered a couple of miles Wolfe spoke again.
'Don't try to be witty. No side roads, no sudden changes of pace, and no speeding. It would be foolhardy. That man is an irresponsible maniac and capable of anything.'
I had no comment because I had to agree. We were flat on our faces. So I took the best route to Hawthorne Circle and there, with the enemy right behind, swung into the Sawmill River Parkway. The dashboard clock said a quarter to seven. My biggest trouble was that I couldn't see Wolfe's face. If he was holding on and working, fine. If he was merely nervous and tense against the terrific extra hazards of driving after dark, maybe okay. But if he had settled for getting back home and that was all, I should be talking fast and I wanted to. I couldn't tell. I had never realized how much I depended on the sight of his big creased face.
We made the first traffic light in eleven minutes from Hawthorne Circle, which was par. It was green and we sailed through. Four minutes farther on, at the second light, we were stopped by red, and Noonan's car practically bumped our behind. Off again, we climbed the hills over Yonkers, wound down into the valley and the stretch approaching the toll gates, parted with a dime, and in another mile were passing the sign that announces New York City.
I kept to the right and slowed down a little. If he once got inside his house I knew of no tool that could pry him loose again, but we were now only twenty-five minutes away and from where I sat it looked hopeless.
However, I slowed to thirty and spoke. 'We've left Westchester, and Noonan is gone. They turned off back there. That's as far as my orders go. Next?'
'Where are we?'
'Riverdale.'
'How soon will we get home?'
But there I fooled you. That's what I was sure he would say, but he didn't. What he said was, 'How can we get off of this race course?'
'Easy. That's what the steering wheel's for.'
'Then leave it and find a telephone.'
I never heard anything like it. At the next opening I left the highway, followed the side drive a couple of blocks and turned right, and rolled up a hill and then down. I was a stranger in the Riverdale section, but anybody can find a drugstore anywhere, and soon I pulled up at the curb in front of one.
I asked if he was going in to phone and he said no, I was. I turned in the seat to get a look at him.
'I don't know, Archie,' he said, 'whether you have ever seen me when my mind was completely dominated by a single purpose.'
'Sure I have. I've rarely seen you any other way. The purpose has always been to keep comfortable.'
'It isn't now. It is – never mind. A purpose is something to achieve, not talk about. Get Saul if possible. Fred or Orrie would do, but I'd rather have Saul. Tell him to come at once and meet us – where can we meet?'
'Around here?'
'Yes. Between here and White Plains.'
'He's to have a car?'
'Yes.'
