“Cunningham will have to dig a pretty deep hole somewhere if he expects to hide successfully. It’s a hundred-to-one shot that father will never see his rug again. He probably realizes that, and he will be relentless. He’ll coal at Manila and turn back. He’ll double or triple the new crew’s wages. Money will mean nothing if he starts after 243 Cunningham. Of course I’ll be out of the picture at Manila.”
“Do you know why your father kidnaped me so easily? I thought maybe I could find a chink in his armour and bring you two together.”
“And you’ve found the job hopeless!” Dennison shrugged.
“Won’t you tell me what the cause was?”
“Ask him. He’ll tell it better than I can. So you hid the beads in that hand-warmer! Not half bad. But why don’t you take the sixty thousand?”
“I’ve an old-fashioned conscience.”
“I don’t mean Father’s gold, but the French Government’s. Comfort as long as you lived.”
“No, I could not touch even that money. The beads were stolen.”
“Lord, Lord! Then there are three of us—Cunningham, myself, and you!”
“Are you calling me a tomfool?”