Wilfrid would have liked to ask the negro and his employer a few pertinent questions, but, perhaps, it was wiser not to do so for the present. He sat there quietly until Vardon intimated that he did not require the negro any longer, seeing that he had in Mr. Gordon a witness who was sufficient for his purpose. As the African left the office Wilfrid followed. Without arousing the negro's suspicions he might, by two or three promiscuous questions, learn something of the two men of whom he was in search. The negro was walking along at the back of the circus, where most of the lamps were extinguished now, save an occasional naphtha flare near the spot where the men were attending to the horses. It might have been Wilfrid's fancy, but it seemed to him that the African glanced cautiously about him from time to time as if afraid of being followed. Mercer made a wide sweep into the darkness of the field, then waited to see what was likely to happen. He was rewarded for his diligence, for the negro stopped under a tree and proceeded to light a cigarette. The evening was calm and still so that the match flared brightly and steadily. In the narrow circle of light stood another figure in evening dress, his coat unbuttoned. Just for an instant the circle of light fell upon his face and Wilfrid had no difficulty in recognizing the features of Samuel Flower. Then the match died away and the gloom became all the deeper. By the time that Wilfrid had thought it prudent to creep up to the tree, Flower and his companion had vanished. Which way they had gone Wilfrid did not know. Not that it much mattered. Still, the discovery was worth making and Wilfrid returned to the circus in a thoughtful frame of mind. He was passing through the office again when a hand was laid upon his arm. He turned abruptly.
"Swan Russell!" he exclaimed. "Fancy seeing you here! I thought you were at the other side of the globe."
CHAPTER XIV
RUSSELL EXPLAINS
The stranger was a lean, spare man with not an ounce of superfluous flesh. He looked like a man that did not know the meaning of fatigue. His face was brown and tanned; his keen grey eyes looked out under bushy brows; the outline of a stubborn chin showed under a ragged moustache. Swan Russell had the air of one who has seen men and things, and his aspect did not belie him. For the rest, he was an adventurer to his finger tips, always ready to take his life in his hands, always eager for anything that promised excitement and danger. He had been first on the field in many a gold rush. He had a keen nose for locality where money is to be made. And yet, despite his shrewdness and energy, he had always remained a poor man. Perhaps it was his very restlessness, his inability to stay in one place long, that kept him in a condition bordering upon poverty.
"It is strange you should be here to-night," Wilfrid said.
"Not in the least," the other replied, "because I came on purpose to look for you. I found out in Oldborough that you had come here with Mr. Vardon, and then I elicited the fact that you were somewhere about the circus. Isn't it rather funny you should find yourself settled down within a stone's throw of Samuel Flower's house?"
Wilfrid started. Whoever he met, or wherever he went now, it seemed that Flower's name was doomed to crop up.
"What do you know about him?" he asked.
"Quite as much as you do," Russell retorted, "and perhaps a little more. Oh, I haven't forgotten about that mutiny on the Guelder Rose. If I recollect, you had a lucky get-out there. Flower is not the man to forgive a thing of that sort, and if he could not have obtained evidence to convict you, he wouldn't have had the slightest hesitation in buying it. In the circumstances, wasn't it rather risky to settle down here?"