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Updated: June 21, 2025
The colt and the horse had been feeding together in the field, and Rollo’s father had caught the horse, for he wanted to take a ride. Rollo’s father had a little basket in his hand, and when he saw the colt coming towards him, he held it up and called him, “Elky, Elky, Elky, Elky,” for the colt’s name was Elkin, though they often called him Elky.
"I don't say he has lost his character in that respect," said Winter. "Still, he puzzles me. Elkin is a loud-mouthed fool. The verbal bricks he hurls at Grant are generally half baked, and crumble into dust. Hitherto, Siddle has tried to repress him, with a transparent honesty that rather worried me. On Friday night, however, Siddle attacked Grant with poisoned arrows.
John Slidell was already shining beside him. They were co-members of the Elkin Club, then in its glory. It was trying energetically to see what incredible quantities of Madeira it could drink. Judge Mazereau was "avocat-général" and was being lampooned by the imbecile wit of the singers and dancers of the calinda in Congo Square.
Jefferson's frugal habits, since Furneaux had omitted no item of his movements in Steynholme, remembered it later during the nightly gathering in the inn. Elkin greeted Mr. Franklin respectfully when the great man joined the circle. "Did you see anything worth while at Knoleworth, sir?" he said. "No. I was unlucky. All the principals were at a race meeting." "By gum! That's right.
Siddle, Elkin, Tomlin and Hobbs, with eight other local tradesmen and farmers, formed the jurors, and the chemist was promptly elected foreman; no witnesses were ordered out of court; the formalities of "swearing in" the jury and "viewing" the body were carried through rapidly.
Those two have never kissed or squeezed yet. They'll be starting quite soon now." "How old is Doris?" "Nineteen." "But a really good-looking girl of nineteen must have had admirers before Grant went to the village." "She had, and has. Having educated herself out of the rut, however, she left many runners at the post. One is persistent a youngish horse-coper named Elkin.
None of the others now in his house had met her at all. Really, if a man may not give a dinnerparty in these conditions, dining-out would become a lost art." Elkin was obviously seeking for some retort which, though forcible, would not offend a possible patron. But Siddle answered far more deftly than might be looked for from the horse-dealer.
The chemist used a rare agent, too pure nicotine easy, in a sense, to detect, but capable of a dozen reasonable explanations when revealed by the post-mortem. But Elkin wasn't to be killed outright, I gather. The idea was to upset stomach and brain till he was half crazy.
The day was Friday, and the last "commercial" of the week had departed by the mid-day train. "Wot's yer tonic?" demanded the butcher. "A glass of beer," threw Elkin over his shoulder. He had walked to the window, and was gazing moodily at the sign of the "plumber and decorator" who had taken Siddle's shop.
Whether before your pot-house cronies or mere strangers, you charged him openly with being a murderer. I'm sorry for you, Elkin, if ever you come before a judge. He'll rattle more than my three guineas out of you. Even now, you don't grasp the extent of your folly.
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