He paused, and his little gray eyes sought a flicker of surprise on the young man’s face, but they were disappointed. Playle’s easy smile still played round his thin lips as he listened with polite attention.
Master Myddleton began again.
“With such violent, all-daring, cut-throat gang against me, I have—er—yes, to be plain with you, Master Playle—I have—er—felt it unwise—not to say foolhardy—to take more than preliminary measures against these unruly vagabonds until I received assistance from headquarters.”
Playle’s smile deepened and Francis, looking up suddenly, saw it. Instantly his manner changed.
“Ah, I see you know something of their customs, Master Playle,” he said, laughing wheezily.
Playle looked up a little disconcerted, but he laughed with the old man and nodded his head.
“I can see I can be quite plain with you,” went on Francis, his eyes scanning the other’s face.
Playle was a simple, straightforward soldier, and he felt rather at a disadvantage with this quick-witted old villain with the gouty foot. However, he deemed it prudent to make some remark.
“Oh, yes, of a certainty, of a certainty!” he said as intelligently as possible. “I am determined to abolish this illegal trading.”
Master Myddleton sighed; he began to see a little more clearly how the land lay.