This is a calculating man."
Ricardo recognized that clearly. What he had in his mind was something
on a small scale, just to keep the enemy busy while he, Ricardo, had
time to nose around a bit.
"You could even lose a little money to him, sir," he suggested.
"I could."
Ricardo was thoughtful for a moment.
"He strikes me, too, as the sort of man to start prancing when one
didn't expect it. What do you think, sir? Is he a man that would prance?
That is, if something startled him. More likely to prance than to
run--what?"
The answer came at once, because Mr. Jones understood the peculiar idiom
of his faithful follower.
"Oh, without doubt! Without doubt!"
"It does me good to hear that you think so. He's a prancing beast,
and so we mustn't startle him--not till I have located the stuff.
Afterwards--"
Ricardo paused, sinister in the stillness of his pose. Suddenly he
got up with a swift movement and gazed down at his chief in moody
abstraction. Mr. Jones did not stir.
"There's one thing that's worrying me," began Ricardo in a subdued
voice.
"Only one?" was the faint comment from the motionless body on the
bedstead.
"I mean more than all the others put together."
"That's grave news."
"Ay, grave enough. It's this--how do you feel in yourself, sir? Are you
likely to get bored? I know them fits come on you suddenly; but surely
you can tell--"
"Martin, you are an ass.
Pages:
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334