“Oh, you’re too stiff, my boy. You’ll get over that by the time you’ve associated with theatrical managers as long as yours truly. Now, look here, I’ve got a proposal to make to you.”
Frank was silent.
“It’s this,” Riddle went on; “you give me the route of your company, and I’ll give you mine. If you think this isn’t a fair exchange, I might make it an object to you. Old Haley needn’t know anything about it, and you can nail a tenner down into your inside pocket. What do you say?”
“I say, Mr. Riddle,” said Frank, rising, his eyes flashing, “that you are a confounded scoundrel! I don’t know what your object is in wishing to learn the route of our company, but I do know it cannot be an honest one, and I do not wish to have anything further to do with you. There are lots of vacant seats in this car, so be good enough to get out of this one, or I shall throw you out!”
That was straight talk, and Delvin Riddle did not misunderstand it. He looked Frank over rather sneeringly, then laughed in a most cutting manner.
“All right, my young gamecock,” he chirped, “I’ll leave you, for you are altogether too touchy. You are a very fresh duck, and I’ll show you before many days that you’re not half as smart as you fancy you are.”
Then he got up, still laughing sneeringly, and retired to the smoker.
Frank sat down.
“I don’t like to be taken for a scoundrel by such a fellow,” he thought. “It galls me. But it certainly is a singular thing that Riddle is so anxious to learn our route, and it is far more singular that he has not learned it through Collins. As Havener said, there is a mystery about it.”
Frank was provided with a ticket to Dundee, but he decided to get off at Salacia, the town from which Collins had wired Haley that he had abandoned his job and joined King’s company.