“What next, Somers?” asked Barkwood, in a whisper
“Nothing just yet. There will be a tremendous row round here in the course of ten minutes, or at most half an hour. All we want just now is a snug place to lie by in until the tempest blows over.”
“But you are not going to stop here—are you?” demanded the regular, in a tone which sufficiently expressed his astonishment at such a policy.
“This is the best place in the world for us. I am not a strategist, as you are, captain; but I have a fixed principle for use in cases of this kind, and that is, to stow myself away in a place where they are least likely to look for me.”
“Very good; but where is that place?”
“Here, in this house.”
“That’s cool.”
“But it is the best logic in the world. I don’t want to influence you in your movements, Captain Barkwood; but I don’t intend to return without the information which I came out to procure. If you want to return to the camp, I will tell you how you can manage, though I think you had better remain with me.”
“I am entirely of your opinion,” whispered the regular, with a suppressed chuckle. “You are an old head at this business, and I am as green at it as a two months baby.”
“As you please, captain. For my own part, I feel tolerably safe now. I was a fool to trust that Riggleston.”