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Updated: June 12, 2025
"It's a new firm," said Dodds's neighbour. "I thought I knew them all, but I never heard of him before." The salesman's head had disappeared, for he was whispering with the breeder. Now he suddenly straightened himself again. "Thank you for giving us a lead, sir," said he. "Now, gentlemen, you have heard the offer of Mr. Strellenhaus of Liverpool. It will give us a base to start from. Mr.
Seventy magnificent creatures had been brought down by a single breeder, a comfortable- looking, keen-eyed, ruddy-cheeked gentleman who stood beside the sales-man and whispered cautions and precepts into his ear. "That's Flynn of Kildare," said Dodds's informant. "Jack Flynn has brought down that string of horses, and the other large string over yonder belongs to Tom Flynn, his brother.
But he was not destined to be left many minutes more in ignorance of the cause of Mrs. Mary Dodds's terror, for, upon listening, he heard some one come into the kitchen, and bolt the door on the inside so much for his ears; then he turned his eyes to the kitchen, into which he could, as well as the light of the grey dawn would permit, see from where he lay; and what did he see?
When Warner returned to his offices it took him some hours to work out his accounts, and he emerged into the streets in the evening with the absolute certainty that the next settling-day would leave him either hopelessly bankrupt or exceedingly prosperous. It all depended upon Worlington Dodds's information. What could he possibly have found out at Dunsloe?
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