“Why do you say that?” I inquired, trudging abreast of my companion along the dusty country road.
He didn’t answer for a moment or two.
“If I were Gennor,” he said, absorbed in his thoughts, “I’d send another man here or come myself.”
“To help the spy?”
“To find out why the spy didn’t get busy.”
“He is busy,” I said.
“Treasure hunting—yes. But he wasn’t sent here to drill holes in stone walls.”
“He probably would get busy in a hurry,” I reflected, as we walked along, “if he knew that Mr. Ricks was on his way to Washington.” [[115]]
“Gennor knows it,” Scoop said quickly.
“What makes you think so?”