"I was paid two hundred and fifty dollars," was my non-committal answer.
"I congratulate you on your good luck."
"Thank you," I said sarcastically. "And now I am awaiting my instructions."
"Why," said Big Sam slowly, "if you have any scruples about keeping it for yourself, you might apply it to the expenses of the girl you have taken in charge."
"That was what I was waiting for," I said. I did not share Big Sam's pleasure in reaching results by indirect roads, and spoke impatiently. "Is that all you had to say?"
"I believe," said Big Sam with ironic courtesy, "that I have some speech still due me. Unless I am much mistaken I have received no report of a certain girl since I delivered her into your hands. Possibly I am wrong in supposing that the circumstances give me any rights."
"I dare say I owe you an apology," I said, with swift repentance of my show of temper. "But I understood from what you said in Mr. Bolton's office that you were in no pressing haste to hear from her."
"Pardon me, if I have no recollection of a meeting in Mr. Bolton's office," said Big Sam dryly. "We shall get on faster if you will kindly assume that it did not take place."
The "no-sabby" mask covered his face, as impenetrable as the blank walls of the passageway itself.
"As you like," I said. "Then, here is my belated report." And I gave a brief account of the events that had followed the rescue of Moon Ying. At the mention of her wound, Big Sam looked grave, and when I had done he said: