“She’s pretty clever,” he thought, “and got plenty of nerve, but it takes long experience in any game to stand up under the unexpected little shock. That’s the thing that usually gets them when they’re off their balance, and spills the beans all over the place.”
Kretz seemed surprised when he opened the gate for them; his eyes sought out those of the girl, but she passed into the house quickly.
“You did not stay,” said the sergeant-major to Campe.
“No; it was not so pleasant as it seemed.”
Kretz shook his head and muttered something, and Scanlon felt his eyes still upon them as they entered the narrow doorway.
Miss Knowles had gone on up the stairs; they could hear her feet pat-patting quickly on the stones. Campe seemed about to follow when Scanlon said:
“If you are not doing anything particular for the next half hour, I’d like to speak to you.”
“Certainly,” said Campe.
They entered the big room hung with the heads of boars and stags and the trophies of arms.
“I am going to talk to you like a Dutch uncle,” remarked Mr. Scanlon, calmly, as he stood beside one of the massive oaken tables. “Sit down, light a pipe, and listen.”