"You seem to be a very fortunate young man," said Mr. Parnock enviously, returning the document. "I take it that the firm has already tested your discovery?"
"It doesn't need any tests," said the Saint. "I'll show it to you now."
He produced his little brown bottle, and borrowed Mr. Parnock's brass ashtray for the experiment. Before Mr. Parnock's eyes it was silvered all over in a few seconds.
"This bottle of stuff cost about a penny," said the Saint; and Mr. Parnock was amazed.
"I don't wonder you refused five thousand for it, Mr. Smith," he said, as smoothly as he could. "Now, if you had come to me in the first place and allowed me to act as your agent —"
"I want you to do even more than that."
Mr. Parnock's eyebrows moved smoothly upwards for about an eighth of an inch.
"Between ourselves," said the Saint bluntly, "I'm in the hell of a mess."
The faintest gleam of expression flitted across Mr. Parnock's smooth and fish-like eyes, and gave way to a gaze of expectant sympathy.
"Anything you wanted to tell me, Mr. Smith, would of course be treated confidentially."