"You were to do something to me with it, I believe, and to leave it in my hand to show I'd done it myself?"
And then, under another sidelong flash, that steadied down into a will-destroying gleam, Croucher came out with a dreadful phrase.
"To guide yer 'and!" said he, hoarsely.
"To guide my hand! Exactly! But it was not exactly your idea?"
"No. It was——"
But here his eyes rolled into Mostyn Scarth's, and dropped once more.
"Exactly!" repeated Dollar. "But you didn't quite feel like doing it, so at last your master had to come in to do it for you?"
"He ain't my master now, blast 'im!"
"Steady, Croucher. May I ask what that is in your hand?"
It was a letter. Only a letter out of that far pocket, after all! Scarth's eyes started, and he found his tongue once more.