His head was set squarely.

His eyes were as keen as steel.

It would have been impossible to have told whether he was fifty or seventy.

Eagerly he smoothed out the abused missive and evidently succeeded even in the failing light, in deciphering much of it, for the glimmer of a smile flashed over his thin features as he thrust the paper into his pocket.
Without a moment's hesitation he set out on the trail of Captain Plum.

A quarter of a mile down the path he overtook the object of his pursuit.
"Ah, how do you do, sir ?" he greeted as the younger man turned about upon hearing his approach.