"How will I figure? I'm going to be the one who discovers where the missing son is! I'll be the instrument that effects the restoration!
"Then, when the soft-hearted old man wants to put cash into the endowment of my Hindu shrine, you, through gratitude, will urge him to do so."
"I'll be the only heir," said Slade thoughtfully.
"Right," declared the rajah. "If the game looks good enough, you can play the part of a loving son for a few years, if necessary. But if it begins to go sour, you can act in the meantime." Martin Slade nodded. Unsurpassed as a calculating devil who could put people out of the world by subtle methods, he saw an easy task in front of him.
"Tony is taking two pictures," declared Rajah Brahman. "One is for our reference. The other — the snapshot — will be in your possession when you find the old man. It tells all about it on the back of the original. There's every reason why you should have one.
"You can play the part, Slade. This is a better job than your old game of working as a butler or a secretary."
"It's the money!" exclaimed Slade, with enthusiasm. "It leaves you high and dry on those other jobs you have, though—"
"For a time," said Rajah Brahman, "but they can wait. I told the chief we were going to hit above a million on this present crop of suckers. I was way too low. We'll be able to retire after this goes through, along with the others. We'll keep on going, though. This will be just the beginning." The glint in Rajah Brahman's shrewd eyes showed the thoughts toward which his cruel mind was turning. Martin Slade was as gleeful as his comrade.
Tony arrived on the scene, and was given the letters and other documents to photograph. Rajah Brahman began to map out a campaign.
He made notations, and finally reached the point where he decided that further reference to the articles on hand was unnecessary.