He paused and gave Folliot a meaning glance out of the corner of his eyes.
“Aye—what?” asked Folliot.
“I think he met at least one of 'em here,” said Glassdale, quietly. “And—perhaps both.”
“Leading to—misfortune for him?” suggested Folliot.
“If you like to put it that way—yes,” assented Glassdale.
Folliot smoked a while in more reflective silence.
“Aye, well!” he said at last. “I suppose you haven't put these ideas of yours before anybody, now?”
“Present ideas?” asked Glassdale, sharply. “Not to a soul! I've not had 'em—very long.”
“You're the sort of man that another man can do a deal with, I suppose?” suggested Folliot. “That is, if it's made worth your while, of course?”
“I shouldn't wonder,” replied Glassdale. “And—if it is made worth my while.”