deal of Nesta Mallathorpe, until he returned from his Indian travels. Let him attend to his business, and leave possibilities until they came nearer.
"All the same," he mused, as he drew near the town again, "I'm pretty sure I shall come back here next spring—I feel like it."
He called in at Eldrick's office on his way to the hotel, to take some documents which had been preparing for him. It was then late in the afternoon, and no one but Pratt was there—Pratt, indeed, had been waiting until Collingwood called.
"Going back to town, Mr. Collingwood?" asked Pratt as he handed over a big envelope. "When shall we have the pleasure of seeing you again, sir?"
Something in the clerk's tone made Collingwood think—he could not tell why—that Pratt was fishing for information. And—also for reasons which he could not explain—Collingwood had taken a curious dislike to Pratt, and was not inclined to give him any confidence.
"I don't know," he answered, a little icily. "I am leaving for India next week."
He bade the clerk a formal farewell and went off, and Pratt locked the office door and slowly followed him downstairs.
"To India!" he said to himself, watching the young barrister's retreating figure. "To India, eh? For a time—or for—what?"
Anyway, that was good news. Pratt had seen in Collingwood a possible rival.
