“There are certain points about which I wish to be informed,” said Mr. Bindane, “before I go out to the Oases.” He drew a piece of paper from his pocketbook. “Here they are. Do you think it would be possible for Mr. Lane to give me his help?”
“Mr. Lane?” queried Lord Blair. “Why?”
“Because I think Mr. Lane’s advice is essential to the scheme,” replied Mr. Bindane.
Lord Blair spread out his hands. “Oh, but I don’t think he can be spared just now,” he protested.
“I thought I understood you to tell me,” said the other, “that the political situation was extremely quiet just at present. I was hoping you might let Mr. Lane turn his attention now to the Oases.”
“My dear sir,” Lord Blair replied, leaning back in his chair, “the quiet times that we are having, that we are enjoying, are very largely due to Daniel Lane. His influence with the natives is extraordinary, quite phenomenal.”
“Yes, I know,” Mr. Bindane replied, his face devoid of expression. “That is why I want him for the scheme.”
Lord Blair leaned forward. “I don’t quite follow. Do I understand you to mean that you want him to be associated definitely with the enterprise?”
Benifett Bindane’s mouth fell open more loosely than usual, and for a second or two he stared vacantly before him. “Yes,” he answered, at length. “I want him to be our General Manager.”
Lord Blair started. “Tut, tut!” he ejaculated, “By the time the company is floated I expect Daniel Lane will have made himself altogether indispensable to his Majesty’s Government here at the Residency.”