Ralph did not have to look twice to be sure that it was the village magnate who stood just where he had discovered Van Sherwin a few minutes previous.
Gasper Farrington was stooping stealthily under the open window. He did not seem to care so much to see who was inside. Perhaps he had already seen. His whole attitude showed that he was listening intently.
Ralph disliked Farrington. He had reason for the sentiment. He could not recall one gracious action on the part of the miserly old man in all the years he had known him.
His present occupation, that of an eavesdropper, was so expected and characteristic of Farrington, that Ralph's indignation was less than his contempt.
"What is he after here?" reflected Ralph; "no good, of course. Mrs. Davis knows him and fears him, it seems. He is going."
Before Ralph could make up his mind to any definite course of action, Farrington, after a meditative pause, slunk from under the window. Then he disappeared briskly around the corner of the house.
Ralph ran softly after him and peered around the end of the structure. He saw Farrington headed for town, across lots to the nearest highway.
Ralph came back to the old summer house to find Van gone. He looked for him, even tried a whistle signal both understood, but obtained no response.
"It's all a queer affair," mused Ralph. "Mrs. Davis seems to be a great center of interest just at present. Perhaps she has told mother something that explains matters."
Ralph was doomed to disappointment in this hope. When he knocked at the door of the Davis home, his mother answered the summons.