"Bad?"
"He's a fraud!"
"As how?"
"Cute, keen, has played the fool so long he sometimes believes himself one. Did you notice any little discrepancies in his speech?
"Well, rather."
"Nobody else ever would, I'll be bound; not the 'Average Traftonite,' at least. That man has not always been at odds with the English grammar, mark me. What do you think, Bathurst?"
"I think," responded I, soberly, "that we shall find in him an ally or an enemy."
We had been sauntering "across lots," over some of the Brookhouse acres, and we now struck into a path leading down to the highway, that brought us out just opposite the cottage occupied by Dr. Bethel.
As we approached, the doctor was leaning over the gate in conversation with a gentleman seated in a light road wagon, whose face was turned away from us.