“Private, yes,” he said, grinning mysteriously, “but you’d better ask Doctor Ryder whether I’d be called a trespasser or not.”
His bold stroke brought him a revealing response.
“Huh? Doctor Ryder? Do you know him?”
“I know him,” Roger said loftily, “better than he knows the Eye of Om.”
“The what of who?”
“Oh, of course—I ought not to have mentioned——” Roger pretended to be disconcerted, “I—uh—well, never mind.”
“How comes it you’re out here? Why’n’t you ride right on in if you want the Doctor?”
“I just stopped to rest.”
If Roger’s words were carelessly intoned, his heart was doing speed-pulsations. Doctor Ryder was there!
“Well, all right. They didn’t know who you were, climbing on our wall.” (Our wall—Roger hid a grin.)