The Chestermarke Instinct

"Better come inside the house, Shirley," he said. "Patten, you go to the post-office and get the letters."

"No good without the bag," answered Patten, a calm youth of seventeen. "Tried that once before. Don't you know!--they've one key--we've another."

"Well, come inside, then," commanded Neale. "It doesn't look well to hang about those steps."

"Might just as well go away," muttered Shirley, stepping into the hall. "If Horbury's got to come back by train from wherever he's gone to, he can't get here till the 10.45, and then he's got to walk up. Might as well go home for an hour."

"The partners'll be here before an hour's over," said Neale. "One of them's always here by ten."

Shirley, a somewhat grumpy-countenanced young man, made no answer. He began to pace the hall with looks of eminent dissatisfaction. But he had only taken a turn or two when a quietly appointed one-horse coupé brougham came up to