"I can't imagine where he can be. I thought he was at Chattaway's, but they say he has not been there."
"At Chattaway's! He wouldn't go there, would he, Master George?"
"He started to do so this afternoon. It's very odd! Good night, Ann."
"Master George," she interrupted, "do you happen to have heard how it's going with Jim Sanders?"
"He is much better," said George.
"Better!" slowly repeated Ann Canham. "Well, I hope he is," she added, in doubting tones. "But, Master George, I didn't like what Nora told us. I can't bear tokens from dumb animals, and I never knew them fail."
"Jim Sanders is all right, I tell you," said heathen George. "Mamma has been there, and he is coming to his work the day after to-morrow. Good night."
"Good night, sir," answered Ann Canham, as she retreated within the lodge. And George went through the gate, and stood in hesitation, looking up and down the road. But it was apparently of no use to search elsewhere in the uncertainty; and he turned towards home, wondering much.
What had become of Mr. Ryle?