“Of course it is!” snapped the promoter. “You must be a lunatic to think anything else.”
“Very well. May I use your telephone to call the police?”
“Certainly.” Mr. Fogg lighted a cigar and picked up a newspaper.
“Just a moment before you use that 'phone,” objected the third member of the party. “I want an understanding. You please step out of the room, Mayo.”
“Stay where you are,” commanded Fogg. “I'll give no chance for any underhand work.” He scowled when the prisoner winked at him. “This looks to me like a put-up job between you two.”
“There's nothing put up between us,” declared the man. “There'd better be something put up between you two. The thing can go about so far, where I'm concerned, and no farther. I want an understanding, I say!”
Fogg slapped open the pages of his newspaper.
“I have made my talk,” said Mayo.
“By gad, I'm not going to jail—not for anybody!”
Fogg removed his eye-glasses and gave the man a full, unblinking stare.