“Only one,” said the old man sadly.
“Bravo, that’s common-sense,” cried the man. “Sound wisdom. I told you so. Out with that cheque-book at once.”
“I’m afraid, sir,” said Stratton sternly, “that we are at cross purposes.”
“What do you mean?”
“That no money would ever buy your silence, even if I were disposed to play the part of scoundrel. You will get no hush money from me.”
“What?”
“There is only one way out of this difficulty.”
“Oh, indeed!” said the man sarcastically; “and that is—”
“To hand you over to the police.”
“What?”