“Only one—too deep, sir, too deep. Which is that?”
“The crime of getting found out.”
“What a great man! how far would I go with you? To the end of the earth. I have but one regret, sir.”
“And what is that?”
“That I am not thought worthy of your confidence. That after so many years I am still only a too—I mean an honored instrument, and not a humble friend.”
“Crawley,” said Meadows, solemnly, “let well alone. Don't ask my confidence, for I am often tempted to give it you, and that would be all one as if I put the blade of a razor in your naked hand.”
“I don't care, sir! You are up to some game as deep as a coal-pit; and I go on working and working all in the dark. I'd give anything to be in your confidence.”
“Anything is nothing; put it in figures,” sneered Meadows, incredulously.
“I'll give twenty per cent off all you give me if you will let me see the bottom.”
“The bottom?”