‘I suppose they’re perfectly safe, eh?’ said Richard.
‘Oh, they’re safe enough,’ Mr. Puddephatt replied emphatically. ‘Very nice people, too, but a bit queer.’
‘Queer? How?’
Mr. Puddephatt laughed hesitatingly.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘that Miss Craig’s knocking about these roads on them motor-cars day and night. Not but what she’s a proper young lady.’
‘But everyone goes about on motor-cars nowadays,’ said Richard.
‘Yes,’ said Mr. Puddephatt. ‘But everyone doesn’t pay all their bills in new silver same as the Craigs.’
‘They pay for everything in new silver, do they?’ said Richard.
‘That they do, sir. I sold ’em a couple of Irish mares when they first come to the Queen’s Farm. Dashed if I didn’t have to take the money away in my dog-cart!’
‘But is it not the fact that an uncle of Mr. Craig’s died a couple of years ago and left him a large fortune in silver—an old crank, wasn’t he?’