"I am known throughout the country as Jack Chanty."
"But your real name."
"I do not care to give it."
A long breath escaped slowly from between Garrod's clenched teeth, and he wiped his face.
The little governor swelled like a pouter pigeon. "Tut!" he exclaimed. "This is preposterous. Do you think I would entrust myself and my party to a nameless nobody from nowhere?"
Sir Bryson, pleased with the sound of this phrase, glanced over at Garrod for approval.
"I'm not after the job, Sir Bryson," said Jack coolly. "You opened the matter. I am known throughout the country. Ask Cranston."
Garrod, seeing his chief about to weaken, could no longer hold his peace. "Wouldn't it be as well to let the matter go over?" he suggested casually.
Sir Bryson turned on him very much annoyed. "Mr. Garrod, by your leave," he said crushingly. "I was about to make the suggestion myself. That will be all just now," he added to Jack.
Jack sauntered away to talk the matter over with Cranston.