"You can tell us at least where your family is, Mr. Eaton," Connery suggested.
"I have no family."
"Friends, then?"
"I—I have no friends."
"What?"
"I say that I can refer you to no friends."
"Nowhere?"
"Nowhere."
Connery pondered for several moments. "The Mr. Hillward—Lawrence Hillward, to whom the telegram was addressed which you claimed this morning, your associate who was to have taken this train with you—will you give me his address?"
"I thought you had decided the telegram was not meant for me."
"I am asking you a question, Mr. Eaton—not making explanations. It isn't impossible there should be two Lawrence Hillwards."
"I don't know Hillward's address."
"Give me the address, then, of the man who sent the telegram."
"I am unable to do that, either."
Connery spoke again to the Pullman conductor, and they conversed inaudibly for a minute. "That is all, then," Connery said finally.
He signed his name to the sheet on which he had written Eaton's answers, and handed it to the Pullman conductor, who also signed it and returned it to him; then they went on to the passenger now occupying Section Four, without making any further comment.
Eaton abandoned his idea of going to the rear of the train; he sat down, picked up his magazine and tried
