sip of coffee ordered a whiskey and soda. Afterwards he sat
leaning back in his chair, glancing every now and then at the
clock, but otherwise manifesting no signs of impatience. In less
than half an hour an inspector, cap in hand, entered the room and
announced that everything was ready. Mr. Hamilton Fynes put on
his hat, picked up his suitcase, and followed him on to the
platform. A long saloon carriage, with a guard's brake behind and
an engine in front, was waiting there.

"We've done our best, sir," the station-master remarked with a
note of self-congratulation in his tone. "It's exactly twenty-two
minutes since you came into the office, and there she is. Finest
engine we've got on the line, and the best driver. You've a clear
road ahead too. Wish you a pleasant journey, sir."

"You are very good, sir," Mr. Hamilton Fynes declared. "I am sure
that my friends on the other side will appreciate your attention.
By what time do you suppose that we shall reach London?"

The station-master glanced at the clock.

"It is now eight o'clock, sir," he announced. "If my orders down
the line are properly attended to, you should be there by twenty
minutes to twelve."

Mr. Hamilton Fynes nodded gravely and took his seat in the car.
He had previously walked its entire length and back again.

"The train consists only of this carriage?" he asked. "There is
no other passenger, for instance, travelling in the guard's