The one thing which made Ross go up those stairs was his violent distaste for the dramatic. He felt that it would be absurd to dash out into the rain. Instinct warned him, but once again he defied that warning, and up he went.

He was surprised and pleased by what he found up there: the jolliest, coziest little room, green rug on the floor, big armchairs of imitation red leather, reading lamp. It was not a room of much aesthetic charm, perhaps, but comfortable, cheerful and homelike, and warm.

The rain was drumming loud on the roof and dashing against the windows, and Ross sighed as he looked at the big chairs. But he was beginning to think now.

“Take off your coat and make yourself at home,” said Eddy.

“No,” Ross objected. “I can’t stay tonight. Didn’t bring my things along.”

“Oh, didn’t you?” said Eddy. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t come prepared to stay.”

“What did you come for?” asked Eddy.

Now, this might be mere idle curiosity, and Ross decided to accept it as that.

“No,” he said, slowly. “I’ll go back to the city and get my things.”

“It’s raining too hard,” Eddy declared. “It wouldn’t be healthy for you to go out just now, shover.”

This was a little too much for Ross to ignore.

“Just the same,” he insisted, “I’m going now.”

“Nope!” said Eddy.

Ross moved forward, and Eddy moved, too, so that he blocked the doorway. He was grinning, but there was an odd light in his eyes.

“Now, lookit here!” he said. “You just make yourself comfortable for the night, see?”

Ross looked at him thoughtfully. He believed that it would not be difficult to throw this slender youth down the stairs, and to walk out of the garage, but he disliked the idea.

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