“I can say I have reason to hope not; I have behaved so well and sold so much hardware stuff in this town that they ought to believe I am what I pretend to be.”
“What further help can I give you, Mr. Pendar?”
“None, so far as I see at this moment. But you mustn’t minimize your share; the location of the prison is a great and invaluable exploit of itself.”
“What will you next do?”
“It is impossible to say, so much depends upon circumstances as they develop.”
This answer was so vague that it reminded Harvey he was asking questions which he had not the right to ask. The man before him was a professional detective, whose calling required him to be secretive. While such persons often reveal their secrets in stories, they are the last ones in the world to do so in real life.
“I need not remind you,” he continued, “not to drop a hint of these matters to your colored companion.”
“I shall not forget your warning on that point. He means well, but in some respects he is as stupid as a child of five years. What do you think?” asked Harvey with a light laugh, “he asked me to start with him and the aeroplane for Africa to call on his father, Chief Bohunkus Foozleum.”
“He may make the journey yet,” was the remarkable response of the detective.
“Do you think it possible?”