"That's him!"
"The scoundrel!"
"No wonder he looked ill."
"No wonder, indeed. How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill
deeds done!"
"But, sir--"
Robinson was flabbergasted. He could only murmur "Fred Elkin!" in a
dazed way.
"Have a drink," said Furneaux sympathetically. "I'll wet my whistle,
too. Only half a glass, please. Now, we mustn't jump to conclusions.
This Elkin looks a villain, but may not be one. That is to say, his
villainy may be confined to dealings in nags. But you see, Robinson,
what a queer turn this affair is taking. We must get rid of preconceived
notions. Superintendent Fowler and you and I will go into this matter
thoroughly to-morrow. Meanwhile, breathe not a syllable to a living
soul. If I were you, I'd let Mr. Grant understand that we regard him as
rather outside the scope of our inquiry. This beer is very good for a
country village. You know a good thing when you see it, I expect. Pity I
don't smoke, or I'd join you in a pipe. I must get a move on, now, or
that fat landlord will be locking me out. Good night! Yes. I'll take
the hat. _Good_ night!"
While walking up the hill Furneaux fanned himself with the straw hat.
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