"He offered me a thousand pounds."
"Then I'll give you two thousand."
"I might get even more at a sale," George muttered greedily.
"I guess you don't know a great lot about sales," said Jenkins pityingly. "If you put these vases up to auction, collectors and dealers would get together and fix the price beforehand. I'm playing my lone hand in this game, for I'm dead set on getting the ornaments, and I don't mind paying a fancy price for 'em. Crampy won't go beyond a thousand, and even Alloway reckons he's sure of them for fifteen hundred. The other chap offers seventeen hundred it's true, but I have my doubts about him. I didn't mean to bid two thousand, but I've promised to double Crampy's offer, and I'm a man of my word or I'm nothing. Now, sir—you to play!"
"I'll take it," said George.
"Easy way of making money, ain't it?" said the American jauntily. "If you wouldn't mind wrapping some cotton-wool and paper round the things, I'll take 'em right along with me."
"Are you going to offer me a cheque?" George stammered.
"I was going to, but as you don't know a great lot about me, and perhaps you don't feel like relying on Crampy's introduction, and as I must take the pieces right away with me, I'll just hand over the stuff in notes upon your Bank of England which, so far as I know, hasn't put its shutters up," said the millionaire, producing a mighty pocketbook. "Here you are, sir—four five-hundreds, and may they breed you a bonanza. Kindly hand me a form of receipt; and if at any time within the next forty-eight hours the vases should be discovered forgeries, I am at liberty to return them, while you will hand back the money. At the expiration of the forty-eight hours the deal is closed absolutely and, if the things are fakes, I come out spindigo. Don't be ashamed of your suspicions, and don't consider my feelings. Hold up the notes to the light and take a look at the watermark."
"That's just what I was doing," said George feebly.
A few minutes later the millionaire departed, George walking with him to the inn where his conveyance waited. Here also wise men were discussing the state of decadence towards which the parish was being hurried by moral failures like the Brocks and such a despicable plotter as the formerly respected Mr. Drake, who was undoubtedly scheming to construct that Dartmoor railway by means of American dollars. Mr. Jenkins was seen to drive away by the Gentle Shepherd, who reported the gratifying intelligence to headquarters, and a hearty sigh of relief went up while a quantity of inferior beer went down. Yet nobody sighed so deeply or so joyously as George as he hurried home a man of means at last.