"
"Frederic Hoff stayed behind to pick us up, and the old man went off on
the motorcycle. I heard them talking about his taking a train at the
nearest station."
"What did young Hoff do when he found it was you lying there?"
"He seemed surprised and startled."
"What did he say?"
Jane colored and hesitated. There rose in her mind the picture of his
tall figure bending over her, with anguish in his eyes, with expressions
of endearment on his lips. She could not, she would not tell them what
he had said.
"He asked if I was hurt."
"Is that all?"
Again she blushed and hesitated.
"That's all."
"Did he not seem amazed at finding you there? Did he not ask you to
account for your presence there?"
"No," said the girl, firmly, "he didn't."
"Didn't he question you at all?"
"No," she insisted, "he was busy getting Dean into the car. He was
unconscious, and it looked as if he was badly hurt."
"Queer, mighty queer," muttered Carter to himself.
"Didn't he ask you who Dean was?" questioned Fleck.
"I explained that he was our chauffeur. He may have known him by sight
at any rate."
"Go on."
"We stopped at the house of the first doctor we came to and left Dean
there, and then Mr. Hoff brought me on home in the car. At the ferry he
put me into a taxi.
Pages:
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170