"I can't, Dick; but I want you to be careful in Edinburgh, for my sake."
"Very well. I'll promise that; and I think I can manage not to let others see I've had a hint. It's a funny thing, but although I am a bit of a fool, I really have more sense than people imagine."
Elsie was puzzled by his manner. The hardness in his tone was not like Dick; but she let the matter drop.
"Who is Rankine? Do you know him?" she asked.
"Yes; he's a friend of Whitney's people, a navy officer. Struck me as a remarkably good type."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know. Somewhere between here and Ireland, surveying for charts."
"Perhaps Mr. Whitney will bring him to Appleyard when his ship's in port."
"I'll ask him to, if you like. But I don't know you as a plotter. What's the scheme?"
"I can't tell you," Elsie answered with a careless smile. "You'll have to trust me, Dick."