“What did you pay that man in Switzerland?�
“Ten thousand pounds.�
“And the fellow in Holland?�
“He died too soon to receive his share. The money went to the general funds.�
Fay crossed his legs and glanced at the slender shape of the boots he wore. “I think you have been gulled,â€� he said with the ghost of a smile. “I think that cipher in the boxes is a bum steer, if you know what that means. You tossed away ten thousand pounds—like that!â€� Fay threw out his hand expressively.
Sir Richard blinked both eyes. The frown died from his face, wrinkle by wrinkle. He leaned back in his chair, thrust his knees against the edge of the table and said, half to Fay, half to MacKeenon:
“Mac thought the same thing! You’re both wrong. The thing was tested before the money was paid. The agent who completed the transaction in Switzerland made no mistake. He went to extreme length in the matter.�
“How?� asked Fay.
“He named a dye—a fast blue—which the German chemist said was one of the thirty-six which were fully worked out in the formulae. The chemist took the boxes, went into a room, and came out with the
formula of the fast-blue, down to the last reaction. It couldn’t be done by any trick of memory!�