If it is
anything else, things look more than doubtful. All the rest I don't
mind. It's open and obvious, and we are on the alert. But that little
bit of frontier there is so little known and apparently so remote that I
begin to be afraid of trouble in that direction. What do you think?"
Wratislaw shook his head. He had no opinion to offer.
"At any rate, you need fear no awkward questions in the House, for this
sort of thing cannot be public for months."
"I am wondering whether somebody should not go out. Somebody quite
unofficial and sufficiently clever."
"My thought too," said Beauregard. "The pinch is where to get our man
from. I have been casting up possibilities all day, and this one is too
clever, another too dull, another too timid, and another too
hare-brained."
Wratislaw seemed sunk in a brown study.
"Do you remember my telling you once about my friend Lewis Haystoun?" he
asked.
"I remember perfectly. What made him get so badly beaten? He ought to
have won."
"That's part of my point," said the other. "If I knew him less well
than I do I should say he was the man cut out by Providence for the
work. He has been to the place, he knows the ropes of travelling, he is
exceedingly well-informed, and he is uncommonly clever. But he is badly
off colour. The thing might be the saving of him, or the ruin--in which
case, of course, he would also be the ruin of the thing.
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