"And you will do that, Mr. Carrados?"
Carrados smiled engagingly. He knew exactly what constituted the great attraction of his services.
"My position is this," he explained. "So far my work has been entirely amateur. In that capacity I have averted one or two crimes, remedied an occasional injustice, and now and then been of service to my professional friend, Louis Carlyle. But there is no reason at all why I should serve a commercial firm in an ordinary affair of business for nothing. For any information I should require a fee, a quite nominal fee of, say, one hundred pounds."
The director looked as though his faith in human nature had received a rude blow.
"A hundred pounds would be a very large initial fee for a small firm like this, Mr. Carrados," he remarked in a pained voice.
"And that, of course, would be independent of Mr. Carlyle's professional charges," added Carrados.
"Is that sum contingent on any specific performance?" inquired the manager.
"I do not mind making it conditional on my procuring for you, for the police to act on, a photograph and a description of the thief."
The two officials conferred apart for a moment. Then the manager returned.
"We will agree, Mr. Carrados, on the understanding that these things are to be in our hands within two days. Failing that—"