ome in--for a quiet chat, you know.

Capt. H. (_Horrified_). Let you--_you_ come in!

Harry (_Persuasive_). Because I could give you some real information
about your son. The--very--latest--tip. If you care to hear.

Capt. H. (_Explodes_). No! I don't care to hear. (_Begins to pace to
and fro, spade on shoulder. Gesticulating with his other arm_.) Here's
a fellow--a grinning town fellow, who says there's something wrong.
(_Fiercely_.) I have got more information than you're aware of. I have
all the information I want. I have had it for years--for years--for
years--enough to last me till to-morrow! Let you come in, indeed! What
would Harry say?

(_Bessie Carvil appears at cottage door with a white wrap on her head
and stands in her garden trying to see_).

Bessie. What's the matter?

Capt. H. (_Beside himself_). An information fellow. (_Stumbles_.)

Harry (_Putting out arm to steady him, gravely_). Here! Steady a bit!
Seems to me somebody's been trying to get at you. (_Change of tone_.)
Hullo! What's this rig you've got on?... Storm canvas coat, by George!
(_He gives a frig, throaty laugh_.) Well! You _are_ a character!

Capt. H. (_Daunted by the allusion, looks at coat_). I--I wear it
for--for the time being. Till--till--to-morrow. (_Shrinks away, spade in
hand, to door of his cottage_.)

Bessie (Advancing). And what may you want, sir?

Harry (_Turns to Bessie at once; easy manner_). I'd like to know about
this swindle that's going to be sprung on him. I didn't mean to startle
the old man. You see, on my way here I dropped into a barber's to get
a twopenny shave, and they told me there that he was something of a
character. He has been a character all his life.

Bessie (_Wondering_). What swindle?

Capt. H. A grinning fellow! (_Makes sudden dash indoors with the spade.
Door slams. Affected gurgling laugh within_.)

SCENE IV.

(_Bessie and Harry. Later Capt. H. from window_).

Harry (_After a short silence_). What on earth's upset him so? What's
the meaning of all this fuss? He isn't always like that, is he?

Bessie. I don't know who you are; but I may tell you that his mind has
been troubled for years about an only son who ran away from home--a long
time ago. Everybody knows that here.

Harry (_Thoughtful_). Troubled--for years! (_Suddenly_.) Well, I am the
son.

Bessie (_Steps back_). You! . .. Harry!

Harry (_Amused, dry tone_). Got hold of my name, eh? Been making friends
with the old man