“I can be of no use to you in this business,” said Dunn, hesitatingly; “the papers are not in my keeping. Conway's suit is in the hands of the first men at the bar—”
“I know all that, and I know, besides, you have an appointment with Fordyce at Calvert's Hotel, to arrange the whole matter; so go in at once, and be on the square with me. Who has these papers? Where are they?”
Dunn started at the sudden tone of the question, and then his eyes turned as quickly towards a brass-bound despatch-box at the bottom of the carriage. If the glance was of the speediest, it yet had not escaped the intense watchfulness of Davis, who now reiterated his question of “Where are they?”
“If you 'd come to me after my interview with Fordyce,” said Dunn, with a slow deliberation, as though giving the matter a full reflection, “I think we might hit upon something together.”
“To be sure, we might,” said Grog, laughing; “there 's only one obstacle to that pleasant arrangement,—that I should find an inspector and two constables of the police ready waiting for my visit. No, Master Dunn, what we 're to do we 'll do here and now.”
“You appear to measure all men by your own standard, sir,” said Dunn, indignantly; “and let me tell you that in point of honor it is a scant one.”
“We're neither of us fit for a grenadier-company of integrity, that's a fact, Dunn; but, upon my solemn oath, I believe I 'm the best man of the two. But what's the use of this 'chaff'? I have heard from Hankes how it stands about that Irish estate you pretended to buy for the late Lord, and never paid for. Now you want to stand all square upon that, naturally enough; it is a pot of money,—seven-and-thirty thousand pounds. Don't you see, old fellow, I have the whole story all correct and clear; so once more, do be business-like, and say what's your figure,—how much?”
Again did Dunn's eyes revert to the box at his feet, but it was difficult to say whether intentionally or not Davis, however, never ceased to watch their gaze; and when Dunn, becoming suddenly conscious of the scrutiny, grew slightly red, Grog chuckled to himself and muttered, “You're no match for Kit Davis, deep as you are.”
“Until we learn to repose some trust in each other, sir,” said Dunn, whose confusion still continued, “all dealing together is useless.”
“Well, if you mean by that,” retorted Davis, “that you and I are going to start for a ten years' friendship, I declare off, and say it's no match. I told you what brought me here, and now I want you to say how I 'm to go back again. Where are these same papers?—answer me that.”