“I reckon not, too,” said the Colonel, dryly.
For the following week curiosity prompted Virginia to take that walk with the Colonel. Mr. Hopper being still absent, she helped him to sort the papers—those grimy reminders of a more prosperous time gone by. Often Mr. Carvel would run across one which seemed to bring some incident to his mind; for he would drop it absently on his desk, his hand seeking his chin, and remain for half an hour lost in thought. Virginia would not disturb him.
Meanwhile there had been inquiries for Mr. Hopper. The Colonel answered them all truthfully—generally with that dangerous suavity for which he was noted. Twice a seedy man with a gnawed yellow mustache had come in to ask Eliphalet's whereabouts. On the second occasion this individual became importunate.
“You don't know nothin' about him, you say?” he demanded.
“No,” said the Colonel.
The man took a shuffle forward.
“My name's Ford,” he said. “I 'low I kin 'lighten you a little.”
“Good day, sir,” said the Colonel.
“I guess you'll like to hear what I've got to say.”
“Ephum,” said Mr. Carvel in his natural voice, “show this man out.”