"Come, now, between ourselves ?" Copplestone laughed.

They had come to the edge of the wooded park in which the estate agent's house stood, and at a gate which led into it, he paused.
"Between ourselves, then, I don't think at all--yet," he answered.

"I haven't sized anything up.

All I should say at present is that if--or as, for I'm sure the fisherman repeated accurately what he heard--as Oliver said he met somebody called Marston Greyle in America, why--I conclude he did.

That's all.