"Why not?" the other demanded. "I don't suppose I'm more particular than the man who came surveying. If the place is decently clean, why not?"
"Because your name is Harding. I don't know what his might happen to be."
The young man drew himself up, almost as if he repelled an accusation. Then he seemed to recollect himself.
"Yes," he said, "it is. How did you know that?"
The little Mitchelhurst gentleman found such pleasure in his own acuteness that it gave a momentary air of cordiality to his manner.
"My dear sir," he replied, looking critically at Harding's scratched face, "I knew the Rothwells well. I recognise the Rothwell features."
"You must be a keen observer," said the other curtly.
"Voice too," the little man continued. "Especially when you repeated the name of the inn—the Rothwell Arms."
Harding laughed.
"Upon my word! The Rothwells have left me more of the family property than I was aware of."