“It’s a perfectly good job—nothing wrong with it whatsoever.”
“Not in South America by any lucky chance? I’ve rather got my eye on South America. There’s a very tidy little revolution coming off in one of those little republics soon.”
McGrath grinned.
“You always were keen on revolutions—anything to be mixed up in a really good row.”
“I feel my talents might be appreciated out there. I tell you, Jimmy, I can be jolly useful in a revolution—to one side or the other. It’s better than making an honest living any day.”
“I think I’ve heard that sentiment from you before, my son. No, the job isn’t in South America—it’s in England.”
“England? Return of hero to his native land after many long years. They can’t dun you for bills after seven years, can they, Jimmy?”
“I don’t think so. Well, are you on for hearing more about it?”
“I’m on all right. The thing that worries me is why you’re not taking it on yourself.”
“I’ll tell you. I’m after gold, Anthony—far up in the interior.”