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J. S. Fletcher
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 228 pages of information about The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation.

He himself, waiting while the chauffeur ate and drank, and the provisions were made ready, took a whisky and soda to a chair by the fire, and once more pulled out and read the telegram.  And as he read he wondered why his cousin, its sender, wished so particularly to see him at once.  James Allerdyke, a man somewhat younger than himself, like himself a bachelor of ample means and of a similar temperament, had of late years concerned himself greatly with various business speculations in Northern Europe, and especially in Russia.  He had just been over to St. Petersburg in order to look after certain of his affairs in and near that city, and he was returning home by way of Stockholm and Christiania, in each of which towns he had other ventures to inspect.  But Marshall Allerdyke was quite sure that his cousin did not wish to see him about any of these matters—­anything connected with them would have kept until they met in the ordinary way, which would have happened within a day or two.  No, if James had taken the trouble to send him a message by wireless from the North Sea, it meant that James was really anxious to see him at the first available moment, and would already have landed in Hull, expecting to find him there.  However, with a good car, smooth roads, and a fine, moonlit night—­

It was not yet twelve o’clock when Allerdyke wrapped himself up in a corner of his luxurious Rolls-Royce, saw that the box of eatables and the two Thermos flasks were safe in the locker, and told Gaffney to go ahead.  He himself had the faculty of going to sleep whenever he pleased, and he went to sleep now.  He was asleep as Gaffney went through Leeds and its suburbs; he slept all along the country roads which led to Selby and thence to Howden.  But in the silent streets of Howden he woke with a start, to find that Gaffney had pulled up in answer to a question flung to him by the driver of another car, which had come alongside their own from the opposite direction.  That car had also been pulled up; within it Allerdyke saw a woman, closely wrapped in furs.

“What is it, Gaffney?” he asked, letting down his own window and leaning out.

“Wants to know which is the best way to get across the Ouse, sir,” answered Gaffney.  “I tell him there’s two ferries close by—­one at Booh, the other at Langrick—­but there’ll be nobody to work them at this hour.  Where do you want to get to?” he went on, turning to the driver of the other car.

“Want to strike the Great Northern main line somewhere,” answered the driver.  “This lady wants to catch a Scotch express.  I thought of Doncaster, but—­”

The window of the other car was let down, and its occupant looked out.  The light of the full moon shone full on her, and Allerdyke lifted his cap to a pretty, alert-looking young woman of apparently twenty-five, who politely returned his salutation.

“Can I give you any advice?” asked Allerdyke.  “I understand you want—­”

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