“I have no recollection of you,” he answered.
The man regarded him searchingly.
“Your name is Prentiss?”
“It is.”
“You are the grandson of Seth Prentiss?”
“I am.”
The man evidenced his satisfaction.
“You are he whom I took you to be,” he said. He studied the lad carefully for a moment. “Upon second thought I do not wonder that you fail to recall me,” continued he. “If I remember rightly, I have always been somewhat given to hesitancy in my manner of showing myself.” Here he laughed his disagreeable laugh. “A man in my particular profession must not be too forward.”
“And what is your profession?” asked Ezra.
“I am the confidential agent of—of others,” replied the man. “In point of fact I am the very man you came here to see.”