mostly, I flatter myself, because I draw the line at murder. If I had known—this you won't believe, of course—Roddy would be alive to-day."
"I'd like to believe you," Lanyard admitted. "But when you ask me to sign articles with that damned assassin—!"
"You can't play our game with clean hands," Wertheimer retorted.
Lanyard found no answer to that.
"If you've said all you wished to," he suggested, rising, "I can assure you my answer is final—and go about my business."
"What's your hurry? Sit down. There's more to say—much more."
"As for instance—?"
"I had a fancy you might like to put a question or two."
Lanyard shook his head; it was plain that Wertheimer designed to draw him out through his interest in Lucy Shannon.
"I haven't the slightest curiosity concerning your affairs," he observed.
"But you should have; I could tell you a great many interesting things that intimately affect your affairs, if I liked. You must understand that I shall hold the balance of power here, from now on."
"Congratulations!" Lanyard laughed derisively.
"No joke, my dear chap: I've been promoted over the heads of your friends, De Morbihan and Popinot, and shall henceforth be—as they say in America—the whole works."
