Barker thought he was going to speak. But he was mistaken; Mr. Screw was too much taken aback to speak yet. Then Barker spoke for him.
"Well," said he, caressing his foot and looking at the ceiling, "what are you going to do about it?"
"I shall do what is proper in such cases. I will stop his drawing any more money, and investigate the matter. If this is not the real Claudius, the real Claudius must be somewhere, and can be found."
"Perhaps he is dead," suggested Barker.
"It is about as easy to find a dead man as a live man," said Screw. "It is a surer thing, on the whole. A dead man can't change his clothes, and get his beard shaved off, and cavoort around the corner."
"Not generally speaking," said the other, "no well-regulated corpse would do it, anyhow. Besides, if he is dead, there must have been some notice of it in the Heidelberg papers. He belonged to the University, and they always put those things in the local sheet in Germany."
"That's so," said the lawyer. "Do you know anybody in Heidelberg who would look the matter up, Mr. Barker?"
Mr. Barker did know some one in Heidelberg—the very man, in fact. He would write immediately, and set the inquiry on foot. Meanwhile there were other things to be settled. After the first shock the lawyer was not inclined to let Barker off so easily for having indorsed a man he suspected of being a humbug. Barker retorted that he had found Claudius in possession of the documents transmitted by Messrs. Screw and Scratch, and that it was not his fault if he supposed that those astute gentlemen had taken proper precautions to ascertain the identity of their client. He went into many details, explaining how his suspicions had been aroused by degrees in the course of many conversations. He was expecting a question from Mr. Screw. At last it came.
"Mr. Barker," said Screw, fixing his brass-headed eyes intently on his companion—for Mr. Screw was no fool—"Mr. Barker, you brought this man over here, and you know him better than any one else. Now, what I want to know is this. He may be the right man, after all. What we are going to do is entirely precautionary. Do you want to appear or not?" Barker had not expected the question to be put so directly, but he was perfectly prepared for it.
"I am sure I do not care," he said, with a fine indifference. "I have no objection. It is a mere question of expediency; do not consider me in the matter. Do what you think is right," he added, emphasising the last word, and meeting Screw's glance boldly enough. Screw looked at him for a moment or two in silence, and then turned his eyes away. There was the faintest reflection of a smile on his yellow face, and the expression became him well. Screw was astute, sharp as a ferret, relentless as a steel-corkscrew, crushing its cruel way through the creaking cork; but Screw was an honest man, as the times go. That was the difference between him and Barker. Screw's smile was his best expression, Barker's smile was of the devil, and very wily. Screw smiled because he was amused. Barker smiled when he was successful.