"I thought you didn't trust Scales," said Arthur quietly.
"And I don't. Not an inch farther than I can see him. I know very well he'd sell the shirt off my back if he got a chance."
"Of course he's not working for nothing."
"Certainly not. If he were, I should distrust him still more. You'll find that in business no one does anything for nothing."
"But I don't see anything I can do, father."
"That's the point I am coming to. I dare not go to look at this Sussex property. I'm known. If I appeared upon the scene, they'd spring the price at once. But you can go to see it. It's at Leatham, not more than twenty miles away. What I want you to do is to go to the village, stop at the inn for a few days, make all the inquiries you can, quietly, and then report to me. Will you do it?"
How could he refuse? It was at least a break in the dull monotony of Brighton. And he was really touched, too, by his father's faith in him.
"But I have no expert knowledge, father, and surely that is what you need."
"Not at all. They'd suspect an expert. All that is wanted is a pair of good eyes, and good commonsense. I think you have these."
"Very well, father, I will go. When do you want me to start?"