Ezra, however, smiled.
“It is somewhat late,” said he, “to try and conceal the dispatch’s ultimate destination. Major Buckstone saw to my enlightenment at the very start.”
Pennington’s hands clenched.
“You saw him then! The old idiot! He would discuss our plans with the colonial council of war itself.”
“I have not the good fortune of this gentleman’s acquaintance,” spoke Scarlett, “but I think I know the type. The bluff old officer—honest as the sun—who knows nothing but his routine and the well ordering of his command. But,” with a careless wave of the hand, “what matters it? We are all friends, are we not? We are all fairly well gifted with understanding. So a trifle of plain talk will do no harm.”
Pennington pondered and nodded reluctantly.
“In a way,” said he, “you are right.”
“A frank question or two, when needed, will have no bad result,” said the adventurer. “And I think if they were applied here and now, we’d come at something of profit, perhaps.”
Pennington’s face flushed.
“I am beholden to you, sir,” said he, a trifle bitterly. Then turning to Ezra he said: “Perhaps you will now tell us how you came to so part with the papers entrusted to you?”