'Mr Stringer,' said he, 'how do you pay your rent, and to whom do you pay it?' There was immediately a jerk in the hat, and then it disappeared. Toogood, stepping to the open door, saw that the red-nosed clerk had taken his hat off and was very busy at his accounts.
'How do I pay my rent?' said Mr Stringer, the landlord. 'Well, sir, since this cursed gout has been so bad, it's hard enough to pay it at all sometimes. You ain't here to look for it, sir, are you?'
'Not I,' said Toogood. 'It was only a chance question.' He felt that he had nothing more to do with Mr Stringer, the landlord. Mr Stringer, the landlord, knew nothing about Mr Soames's cheque. 'What's the name of your clerk?' said he.
'The name of my clerk?' said Mr Stringer. 'Why do you want to know the name of my clerk?'
'Does he ever pay the rent for you?'
'Well, yes; he does, at times. He pays it into the bank for the lady as owns this house. Is there any reason for you asking these questions, sir. It isn't usual, you know, for a stranger, sir.'
Toogood the whole of this time was standing with his eye upon the red-nosed man, and the red-nosed man could not move. The red-nosed man heard all the questions and the landlord's answers, and could not even pretend that he did not hear them. 'I am my cousin's clerk,' said he, putting on his hat, and coming up to Mr Toogood with a swagger. 'My name is Dan Stringer, and I'm Mr John Stringer's cousin. I've lived with Mr John Stringer for twelve year and more, and I'm a'most as well known in Barchester as himself. Have you anything to say to me, sir?'
'Well, yes; I have,' said Toogood.
'I believe you're the one of them attorneys from London?' said Mr Dan Stringer.
'That's true. I am an attorney from London.'
'I hope there's nothing wrong?' said the gouty man, trying to get off his chair, but not succeeding. 'If there is anything wronger than usual, Dan, do tell me. Is there anything wrong, sir?' and the landlord appealed piteously to Mr Toogood.
'Never you mind, John,' said Dan. 'You keep yourself quiet, and don't answer none of his questions. He's one of them low sort, he is. I know him. I knowed him for what he is directly I saw him. Ferreting about--that's his game; to see if there's anything to be got.'
'But what is he ferreting for?' said Mr John Stringer.
'I'm ferreting for Mr Soames's cheque for twenty pounds,' said Mr Toogood.
'That's the cheque the parson stole,' said Dan Stringer. 'He's to be tried for it at the 'sizes.'
'You've heard about Mr Soames and his cheque, and about Mr Crawley, Idaresay?' said Mr Toogood.
'I've heard a deal about them,' said the landlord.
'And so, I daresay, have you?' said Toogood, turning to Dan Stringer.
But Dan Stringer did not seem inclined to carry on the conversation any further. When he was hardly pressed, he declared that he just had heard that there was some parson in trouble about a sum of money; but that he knew no more about it than that. He didn't know whether it was a cheque or a note that the parson had taken, and had never been sufficiently interested in the matter to make any inquiry.
'But you've just said that Mr Soames's cheque was the cheque the parson stole,' said the astonished landlord, turning with open eyes, upon his cousin.
'You be blowed,' said Dan Stringer, the clerk, to Mr John Stringer, the landlord; and then walked out of the room back to the bar.
'I understand nothing about it--nothing at all,' said the gouty man.
'I understand nearly all about it,' said Mr Toogood, following the red-nosed clerk. There was no necessity that he should trouble the landlord any further. He left the room, and went through the bar, and as he passed out along the hall, he found Dan Stringer with his hat on talking to the waiter. The waiter immediately pulled himself up, and adjusted his dirty napkin under his arm, after the fashion of waiters, and showed that he intended to be civil to the customers of the house.