“What’s the trouble?” inquired Barnes.
“You came so suddenly, sir.”
“Perhaps I was a bit abrupt. The morning gets into your blood.”
“It’s the Arctic weather I presume, sir.”
“Yes. Ah, yes, that is probably it.”
He began to lather his face but John still delayed, shuffling a bit nervously.
“You left ‘The Lucky Find’ well, sir?” he ventured with an apologetic cough. It was as though he spoke of a lady. It was as though he spoke of an intimate friend in whom he took great interest.
“Pretty well, thank you,” answered Barnes in some surprise.
“I reads as how you brought twenty million in gold out of the country last year, sir.”
“I?”