four thousand two hundred and fifty pounds in cold cash."
"What's your game, anyway?" cried Brassard, his apprehensions thoroughly aroused at last.
"My game is a perfectly straightforward one. Certain friends of Mr. Bendale's, or, to be more accurate, of Mr. Bendale's wife, desire to get him out of his difficulties. They have authorised me to place before you the proposal I have made. There, Mr. Brassard, my cards are all on the table; you now understand the game from beginning to end."
"Give me the names of those friends which Mrs. Bendale is so fortunate as to possess."
"I am not authorised to do so, but I am authorised to pay you the money, and with all due deference I beg to say that this is the important point."
"In other words, it's none of my d—d business who they are?"
"I should hesitate to put it exactly in those words, Mr. Brassard."
"Yes, but that's what you mean, all the same. Now, I'm a man who deals in plain language, and when I speak no one misunderstands me."
"Well, you have not misunderstood me, Mr. Brassard," said Stranleigh, with that friendly smile of his.
"There is one thing I can't quite catch, and that is what motive lies behind all this. Are Mrs. Bendale's relatives rich people?"
"I think not."
