"I will be ready," said Frank.
"And I'll smoke a cigar."
Just then a gentleman came up, whose acquaintance they had made the previous day. It was a Mr. Abercrombie, an American gentleman, from Chicago, who was accompanied by his son Henry, a boy about Frank's age.
"What are your plans for to-day, Mr. Sharpley?" he asked.
"I hope he isn't going to thrust himself upon us," thought Sharpley, savagely, for he was impatient of anything that was likely to interfere with his wicked design.
"I have none in particular," he answered.
"You are not going to remain at the inn, are you? That would be dull."
"Confound the man's curiosity!" muttered Sharpley, to himself.
"I may wander about a little, but I shall make no excursion worth speaking of till to-morrow."