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Updated: May 31, 2025
The roads were dreadful, but we had daylight. Also, we have a trophy." Linder went out and returned in a moment with a sadly bedraggled hat. "My poor hat!" Zen exclaimed. "I lost it on the way." "It is the best kind of evidence that you had but recently come over the road," said Linder, significantly. "I think no more evidence need be called," said Phyllis. "May I lay off my things?"
"Please stay, Don," Tory begged, moving forward and standing beside him. She scarcely came up to his shoulder. "Edith Linder has gone to Miss Frean's cottage to ask her to come to Kara at once. She is to try to telephone for your father. If not, one of us must ride in to town for him.
There was something strangely modest in Drazk's manner. "Had yours handed to you already?" Linder managed to banter in a low voice as they swung through the gate. "Hell!" protested Mr. Drazk. "A fellow that ain't a boss or a foreman don't get a look-in. Never even seen her.... Come, you Pete-horse!" It was evident George had gone back to his first love.
When Captain Grant and Sergeant Linder stepped off the train at Grant's old city there was, however, little to suggest the ageing process that commonly went on among the soldiers in the Great War. Grant had twice stopped an enemy bullet, but his fine figure and sunburned health now gave no evidence of those experiences. Linder counted himself lucky to carry only an empty sleeve.
Conversation at the round-table was general and lively that evening, and not until the port came on the prideful club port, served only on special occasions and in wonderful, delicate glasses did Average Jones get an opportunity to speak to Waldemar aside. "I've been looking into that Linder matter a little." "Indeed. I've about given up hope." "You spoke of an old scandal in Linder's career.
"Don't you think," suggested Average Jones sweetly, "that considered as news, this " Linder caught the word out of his mouth. "News!" he roared. "A fake story ten years old, news? That ain't news! It's spite work. Even your dirty paper, Waldemar, wouldn't rake that kind of muck up after ten years. It'd be a boomerang. You'll have to put up a stronger line of blackmail and bluff than that."
Sunday afternoon saw the arrival of Linder and Murdoch, with the largest teddy the town afforded. "What is the big idea now?" Linder demanded, as he delivered it into Grant's hands. "It is for a little boy I know who has been bereaved of his first teddy by the activities of the family pig. You will renew some pleasant acquaintanceships, Linder. You remember Transley and his wife Zen, of the Y.D?"
The scrap of a letter addressed to "Herr Franz Linder" he had found in the cabin connected the old crone, in Whistler's mind, with the German spy system. She was of Teutonic extraction herself. Clearly the old woman was trying to befool her visitors. She probably possessed some local celebrity as a witch or wise woman. Whistler, however, was not ready to believe her any wiser than her neighbors.
She was at home in discussions of herds or horses; she was at home with the duties of kitchen or reception-room; she was at home with her father or Transley or Linder or Drazk or Tompkins the cook, but Dennison Grant in an hour had carried her into a far country, where she would be hopelessly lost but for his guidance.... Yet it seemed a good and interesting country.
The old woman who tried to make Whistler believe she possessed second sight, or some gift quite as uncanny, was in league with or had some knowledge of Franz Linder. The boy was confident on this point. She was of German descent at least, and she showed bitterness toward "the Yankees." However, she proved herself to be a hospitable hostess.
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