"My eyes are not so good as they used to be, but I fancy I know him."
"O, you know him well enough. It's Alfred, Lizzie's young man."
"Ah, yes; to be sure, to be sure. I recognise him now."
"Keep your eye on him; watch him; don't let him go out of your sight. I want to know what he's up to, and where he is going to."
"I suppose he'll go home to-night," said Mr. Musgrave.
"I am not so sure of that; and if he doesn't, you must see where he puts up, and keep near him. I may want him."
"For what?"
"What's that to you?" retorted Mr. Sheldrake. "Perhaps he owes me money, and I don't intend that he shall give me the slip. Perhaps he's lost on the race and can't pay, and I want to do him a service."
"For the sake of his pretty sister," suggested Mr. Musgrave humbly.
"You dog, you!" retorted Mr. Sheldrake, half angrily, half approvingly. "Whatever it is, it's my business, and not yours. Mind that, old man. If you don't want to be turned off at a moment's notice, do as you're told, and ask no questions. And look here, old man, you know the Myrtle Inn? Well, inquire there the first thing in the morning for a note. I may have to write to you, to give you instructions. And if the place is handy, you can put up there to-night."