“Oh, all are well at the house, but sometimes you know women-folks get nervous.”
Was it possible that Mrs. Knapp had sent for her husband? What other meaning could I put on these words? But before I could pursue my investigations further along this line, the wolf came to the surface, and he waved the subject aside with a growl.
“But this is nothing to you. What you want to know is that I won't need you before Wednesday, if then.”
“Does the campaign reopen?” I asked.
“If you don't mind, Wilton,” said the Wolf with another growl, “I'll keep my plans till I'm ready to use them.”
“Certainly,” I retorted. “But maybe you would feel a little interest to know that Rosenheim and Bashford have gathered in about a thousand shares of Omega in the last four or five days.”
Doddridge Knapp gave me a keen glance.
“There were no sales of above a hundred shares,” he said.
“No—most of them ran from ten to fifty shares.”
“Well,” he continued, looking fixedly at me, “you know something about Rosenheim?”