“My patience is not inexhaustible. I give you one minute,” Lawless said.
The Dutchman started, raised his pen hand nervously, and again drew back. This was slow torture.
“I’ll sell to you... Give me a sum down,” he muttered, thinking vainly of the handsome sum he had several times refused. “They won’t part with the packet in exchange for this... But I’ll sell it to you—for a sum down.”
Hayhurst chuckled.
“Don’t know when you’re beaten, do you, old man?”
“Write,” was all Lawless vouchsafed... “Here, the discharge across the back.”
Van Bleit obeyed. He flung down the pen when he had finished with an oath.
“I hope you are satisfied now,” he remarked with great bitterness, as Lawless carefully placed the receipt in an envelope and slipped it inside his coat.
“Not quite,” he answered. He stooped for the pen and handed it again to Van Bleit. “We are not through yet. You have played your game of bluff very well, but you know perfectly that I could not get that packet from the Bank even with your receipt without a letter of authority from you.”
Van Bleit completely lost his temper. This man knew too much. It was almost like parting with his life’s blood, this plundering him of his treasure.