He could not evade the direct question, for he had none of his father’s subtlety, but he felt a jealous pang. Ruth would not have insisted on an answer unless she had an interest in one of the men. Farquhar was a good-looking fellow with taking manners; but Aynsley erred in imagining that she was concerned only about Jimmy. The girl saw that there was more in the matter and she was feeling for a clue.
“The old man came along when I was away and cut down the yard gang,” he explained. “He’s smart at handling men economically, and thought I was paying too much in wages.”
“But why did he pick out those three? Didn’t they work well?”
Aynsley felt confused; but he would not seek refuge in deceit.
“So far as I could see, they were pretty smart; but I’m not so good a judge. Anyway, he didn’t explain.”
“Then you asked him about it?”
“Yes,” Aynsley answered lamely. “Still, I couldn’t go too far. I didn’t want him to think I resented his interfering. After all, he bought me the mill.”
Ruth saw that he suspected Clay’s motive. So did she, but she did not think he could tell her anything more, and, to his relief, she changed the subject.
CHAPTER XXII—A WARNING
In the luxuriously appointed smoking-room of the hotel Clay leaned forward in the deep leather chair into which he had dropped and looked keenly at Osborne.