"That there Dick Cronk is a mighty cute chap. You never
can tell wot he's got in that noddle of 'is. No, sir, you never can
tell."
CHAPTER IX
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
That supper was one of the incidents in David Jenison's life always to
stand out clear and undimmed. The party of five sat at a table in a
remote corner of the dingy little eating-house. At no time were they
free from the curious gaze of the people who filled the place, a noisy
bumptious crowd of country people making the most of a holiday. The
glamour was over them. Some one had recognized "Little Starbright" in
the simply clad, demure young girl; the word was passed from table to
table. She was stared at and whispered about from the time she entered
the place until she left.
David, alert and dogged, soon forgot the boorishness of the country-
folk, however, in the painful study of conditions near at hand.
Colonel Grand, the host, was most affable. More than that, he was
tactful. While there was an unmistakable air of proprietorship in his
manner, he had the delicacy or the cleverness not to allow it to
become even remotely oppressive.
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