“I did,” replied Ezra. “And I trust that Master Scarlett bears me no ill-will because of the manner in which I became his messenger.”
“Not the least in life,” said Scarlett. “It is a man’s right to defend himself against all comers on the road. But you conducted the mission with which I entrusted you oddly. You set these people, whoever they are, by the ears. From what I learned in a short talk with them, you deceived them in sundry ways; and it ended in their house being burned down and they,” with a laugh, “becoming wanderers upon the face of the earth.”
“I delivered the papers as I promised,” said Ezra. “I told the people at the house nothing, but they took much for granted. What resulted was much their own fault.”
Pennington had listened with interest.
“Were you by any chance entrusted with a message in reply to the one you carried?” he asked with eagerness.
“I was,” returned the boy frankly.
“And to whom were you to deliver it?” asked Scarlett. “And where?”
“To a Mr. Pennington,” replied Ezra, evenly. “And at this inn.”
“So!” Scarlett lay back in the settle, his arms folded upon his chest and his booted legs stretched out straight before him. “And how were you to know this gentleman?”
“I was to inquire of the landlord.”