"Oh, all over," said Jack. "Anything good they keep dark, of course."
"Did you ever hear of Dexter's Creek?"
Jack bit his lip. "Oh, yes," he said with an innocent stare. "Those were what they called their sucker claims."
Sir Bryson swelled like a turkey-cock, and turned an alarming colour, but he said nothing. What could he say?
Your Northern humourist is merciless. Jack was not nearly through with him. He went on full of solicitude: "I hope you didn't fall for anything on Dexter Creek, Sir Bryson. If you'd only mentioned it before, I could have warned you, and saved all this trip!"
"I have nothing to do with Dexter's Creek," said Sir Bryson quickly. "I have other objects. I merely promised the attorney-general of the province to do a little detective work for him."
Jack could appreciate quick wits in a victim. "Well turned," he thought, and waited for Sir Bryson's next lead.
"Well, well," said the little man testily. "Explain what you mean by—by this vulgar expression."
"Sucker claims?" said Jack wickedly. It really pained him that there was no one by to benefit by this.
"You needn't repeat the word," snapped Sir Bryson. "It is offensive to me."