“Idiot! Don’t tell me those eyes aren’t blue.”
“Might be,” admitted Hash grudgingly.
“And that hair would be golden, or possibly a very light brown.”
“How’m I to know?”
“Hash,” said Sam, “the very first thing I do when I get to England is to find out who that girl is.”
“Easy enough.” Hash pointed the stem of his pipe at the caption. “Daughter of Nimrod. All you got to do is get a telephone directory and look him up. It’ll give the address as well.”
“How do you think of these things?” said Sam admiringly. “The only trouble is, suppose old man Nimrod lives in the country. He sounds like a hunting man.”
“Ah!” said Hash. “There’s that, o’ course.”
“No, my best scheme will be to find out what paper{23} this is torn out of, and then search back through the files for the picture.”
{23}
“Maybe,” said Hash. He had plainly lost interest in the subject.
Sam was gazing dreamily at the picture.
“Do you see that little dimple just by the chin, Hash? My goodness, I’d give something to see that girl smile!” He replaced the paper in his note-case and sighed. “Love is a wonderful thing, Hash.”
Mr. Todhunter’s ample mouth curled sardonically.
“When you’ve seen as much of life as I have,” he replied, “you’d rather have a cup of tea.{24}”
{24}
CHAPTER TWO KAY OF VALLEY FIELDS
THE nameless individual who had torn from its setting the photograph which had so excited the admiration of Sam Shotter had, as has been already indicated, torn untidily. Had he exercised a little more care, that lovelorn young man would have seen beneath the picture the following legend:
T
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