“Well, no,” I replied. “But I’m sure of this, it was either you or the landlord.”
He patted me on the arm.
“Now,” he said, “you are talking sense. As far as you are concerned it was the landlord, for I wouldn’t like you to think you were traveling with a murderer.”
“Was it you, really?” I asked.
“As far as the landlord goes, it was,” he said. “It all depends which side of the fence you are on.”
He left me more puzzled than ever. I tried again but with the same result. The same dry smile and the same cunning expression from those knowing eyes greeted me at every turn.
“Well,” I said after we had finished our meal. “What are we to do now?”
“Play the fox,” he answered. “We must do the contrary to what they think we’ll do.”
“They will think that we’ll keep on ahead to get out of the way,” I replied. “Isn’t that natural?”
“It is,” he agreed. “You’re a gentleman of fine understanding.”