Explore "The Mystery of the Ravenspurs" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Geoffrey was slightly puzzled, but like a good soldier, he asked no questions. More and more he was coming to recognise that it was Ralph's to command and his to obey. Doubtless Ralph had some good reason when he treated his nephew like a puppet, but then the puppet was a long way from a fool, and as the days went on, it came home to him with an increasing force that he had a master mind to deal with.
He had been told off this afternoon to lurk more or less concealed at the top of the steep pitch leading to the village, and there wait until something happened. It came at the end of a few minutes in the shape of a lady in perfect cycling costume, wheeling a machine up the hill towards Jessop's farm. As she came nearer to the spot where Geoffrey was smoking, a ragged nomad sprang from the hedge and demanded alms. The man was coarse and threatening; he was by no means sober, and his demands took the by no means modest form of a shilling.