“Yes,” he answered carelessly, “I know the mine.”
“I’m thinking of taking shares in it,” Crestwick informed him.
“Well,” said Lisle, “that wouldn’t be wise.”
Gladwyne leaned farther back in his seat, as if to disassociate himself from the discussion, which was what the Canadian had expected from him; but Batley, who was of more resolute fiber, showed fight. His appearance became aggressive, his face hardened, and there was a snap in his eyes.
“You have made a serious allegation in a rather startling way, Mr. Lisle. As I’ve an interest in the company in question, I must ask you to explain.”
“Then I’d advise you to get rid of your interest as soon as possible; that is, so long as you don’t sell out to Crestwick, who’s a friend of mine.”
Batley’s face began to redden, and Lisle, looking around at the sound of a footstep, saw Marple standing a pace or two away. He was a fussy, bustling man, and he raised his hand in expostulation.
“Was that last called for, or quite the thing, Lisle?” he asked.
Batley turned to Gladwyne, as if for support, and the latter assumed his finest air.
“I think there can be only one opinion on that point,” he declared.