He opened the envelope and read the few lines.
“She hasn't got the money,” he said, “but she's going to get it. I must meet her to-morrow afternoon at the corner of Oxford Street and Regent Street.”
“What time!” asked the other.
“Six o'clock,” said the first man. “The chap who takes the money must carry a copy of the Westminster Gazette in his hand.”
“Oh, then it's a plant,” said the other with conviction.
The other laughed.
“She won't work any plants. I bet she's scared out of her life.”
The second man bit his nails and looked up and down the road, apprehensively.
“It's come to something,” he said bitterly; “we went out to make our thousands and we've come down to 'chanting' for 20 pounds.”
“It's the luck,” said the other philosophically, “and I haven't done with her by any means. Besides we've still got a chance of pulling of the big thing, Harry. I reckon she's good for a hundred or two, anyway.”