“I can trust him,” I replied simply.
“Then tell him everything,” Garnesk advised. “If you know you can rely upon him he may be of great assistance to us.”
“What about Hilderman?” I asked. “He knows a good deal already.”
“There is no need for him to know any more. He may be of some use to us. I had thought he might be of the greatest use, but he may be able to help us still. We should decrease, rather than augment, his usefulness by telling him these new complications.”
“How do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, for instance, he might think we are mad, although he’s a very shrewd fellow.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “I think he’s pretty cute. Funny that Americans so often are. Anyway, he’s been cute enough to make sufficient to retire on at a fairly early age, and retire comfortably too.”
“H’m,” was my companion’s only comment.
After dinner that evening we discussed all sorts of subjects, mainly the war, of course, and went to bed early.
“Now, Ron,” exclaimed Myra, as we said good-night, “if Mr. Garnesk is really going to leave us on Monday, you mustn’t let him worry about things to-morrow. Do let him have one day’s holiday while he is with us, anyway.”