The two men followed Daffy’s trim figure through a maze of shrubs until they came to a rustic arbour set in the midst of high trees. Entering this, a dilapidated and mouldy place, she turned and confronted Blick with another side-glance at the Professor.
“I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Blick,” she said, in low tones. “I’d been waiting there at the gate some little time, thinking I might see you coming out of the Sceptre. My mistress has driven into Selcaster, so I shan’t be wanted, and nobody’s likely to come here, so we’re safe enough for a bit of talk. Look here! there’s a reward out, isn’t there?”
“One hundred pounds,” assented Blick, watching her narrowly.
Daffy made a grimace.
“Oh, well!” she said. “It’s a miserable amount, but I don’t want it, and I don’t know anything that would enable me to get it. But—now, this is between ourselves, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely!” declared Blick. “Strictly so. Tell us anything you like—and can.”
“Well, I know of somebody who, I believe, has made a pretty good guess at the truth about Guy Markenmore,” answered Daffy. “And he’s a man who’d be glad of a hundred pounds, for he wants to emigrate.”
“What man?” asked Dick.
Daffy lowered the tones of her voice.
“Jim Roper!” she whispered. “You’ve heard of him?”