“That may or may not be true,” Harcutt said. “It does not affect the question which we are considering at present. We must come to the conclusion that these are people of considerable importance. That is what I honestly believe. Now what do you suppose brings Mr. Sabin to such an out of the way hole as this?”
“The golf, very likely,” Wolfenden said. “He is a magnificent player.”
Harcutt frowned.
“If I thought so,” he said, “I should consider my journey here a wasted one. But I can’t. He is in the midst of delicate and important negotiations—I know as much as that. He would not come down here at such a time to play golf. It is an absurd idea!”
“I really don’t see how else you can explain it,” Wolfenden remarked; “the greatest men have had their hobbies, you know. I need not remind you of Nero’s fiddle, or Drake’s bowls.”
“Quite unnecessary,” Harcutt declared briskly. “Frankly, I don’t believe in Mr. Sabin’s golf. There is somebody or something down here connected with his schemes; the golf is a subterfuge. He plays well because he does everything well.”
“It will tax your ingenuity,” Wolfenden said, “to connect his visit here with anything in the shape of political schemes.”
“My ingenuity accepts the task, at any rate,” Harcutt said. “I am going to find out all about it, and you must help me. It will be for both our interests.”
“I am afraid,” Wolfenden answered, “that you are on a wild goose chase. Still I am quite willing to help you if I can.”
“Well, to begin then,” Harcutt said; “you have been with him some time to-day. Did he ask you any questions about the locality? Did he show any curiosity in any of the residents?”