It occurred to him that
he ought to let his partner know what he had seen, and when Hardy
returned he had barely seated himself before Mr. Swann with a mysterious
smile crossed over to him, bearing a sheet of foolscap.
"Try and dress as well as my partner," read the astonished Hardy.
"What's the matter with my clothes? What do you mean?"
Mr. Swann, in place of answering, returned to his desk and, taking up
another sheet of foolscap, began to write again, holding up his hand for
silence as Hardy repeated his question. When he had finished his task he
brought it over and placed it in the other's hand.
"Take her little brother out for walks."
Hardy crumpled the paper up and flung it aside. Then, with his face
crimson, he stared wrathfully at the benevolent Swann.
"It's the safest card in the pack," said the latter. "You please
everybody; especially the little brother. You should always hold his
hand--it looks well for one thing, and if you shut your eyes--"
"I don't want any of your nonsense," said the maddened Jem. "What do you
mean by reading my private papers?"
"I came over to look for the manifest," said Mr. Swann, "and I read it
before I could make out what it was. You must admit it's a bit cryptic.
I thought it was a new game at first. Getting hold of the old lady
sounds like a sort of blind-man's buff.
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