CHAPTER XX.
A HARD BARGAIN.
It was quite true that young Henderson had made a terrible scene when he first heard that May Churchill had disappeared from her home. He heard it from his groom, Jack Reid, whom he now regarded with the most bitter hate and fear, though he was obliged to suppress these feelings.
Reid had, indeed, proved a hard task-master, and had insisted on his price to the uttermost farthing. Henderson had, no doubt with some difficulty, paid him one thousand pounds, and had tried in vain to avoid paying him the other thousand, at least for a time.
“This won’t do, you know, master,” he had said, insolently enough on Henderson making some excuse about the money; “that’s all very fine, but our bargain was for two thousand, and you must keep your part of it if I keep mine.”
“But I tell you, man, I can not raise the money without old Ormsby, the lawyer, being most inquisitive about it, and asking all sorts of questions,” answered Henderson.
“It’s your money, not his, isn’t it?” retorted Reid, coolly. “And it’s your debt, too, isn’t it? Maybe if the lawyer knew the truth he would think it wasn’t much to pay for your life?”
“You are always bringing that up,” said Henderson, gloomily.
He was looking very ill; people said he drank heavily, and certainly his naturally clear brown complexion had a different hue now to what it used to have. He was irritable, too, and excitable to a painful extent, and his unhappy mother lived in constant dread of some outbreak.
“The truth is, master,” went on Jack Reid, quite coolly, a few moments later, “I really want this money down, and I must ha’ it too, for I am thinking of starting a race-horse or two in a small way, and capital I must have.”