Not far from the summit they came to a
bench which afforded a good view.
"Suppose we stop here," Glazzard suggested. "It doesn't look as if
we should be disturbed."
"As you please."
"By-the-bye, you have abbreviated your name, I think?"
The other again looked uneasy and clicked with his tongue.
"You had better say what you want with me, Mr. Marks," he replied,
impatiently.
"My business is with Arthur James Northway. If you are he, I think I
can do you a service."
"Why should you do me a service?"
"From a motive I will explain if all else is satisfactory."
"How did you find out where I was?"
"By private means which are at my command." Glazzard adopted the
tone of a superior, but was still suave. "My information is pretty
complete. Naturally, you are still looking about for employment. I
can't promise you that, but I daresay you wouldn't object to earn a
five-pound note?"
"If it's anything--underhand, I'll have nothing to do with it."
"Nothing you can object to. In fact, it's an affair that concerns
you more than any one else.--I believe you can't find any trace of
your wife?"
Northway turned his head, and peered at his neighbour with narrow
eyes.
"It's about _her_, is it?"
"Yes, about her."
Strangely enough, Glazzard could not feel as if this conversation
greatly interested him. He kept gazing at the Suspension Bridge, at
the woods beyond, at the sluggish river, and thought more of the
view than of his interlocutor.
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