“But you must get the papers or whatever they are back again, father,” cried Sam, who was now growing excited. “You’ll have to go down there yourself.”
“Impossible; but I have made up my mind to send you to try and get them.”
“And suppose I did, father?”
“Suppose you did? Why then, my boy, I could—I mean we could laugh at them, treat anything that was said with contempt. Do you hear? With contempt.”
“Stop a bit,” said Sam quietly. “You always told me to be cautious in business matters, and that I was to keep one foot down firmly till I found a safe place for the other.”
“Of course, my lad, of course.”
“Well, suppose I go down to that country bumpkin’s place?”
“Yes, if you went down you would find out where the papers were kept,” said James Brandon eagerly.
“And if I did?”
“You could bring them away. The boy’s too stupid to take very great care of them.”