Jarvis looked keenly at him, and Clarence hastened to say, with perfect, apparent, candor:
"The fact is I have been put back by a patient, and my own personal affairs have been neglected. So I have been unable to look you up at the office, in order to put a little matter into your hands. To-day I am called away unexpectedly." Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, "How long will you be out of town?"
Jarvis shook his head. "Don't know."
"By Jove, what a pity. I'd rather have you than any other man, and I won't stand about money; but my work won't keep long."
The doctor's flattery and the detective's avarice combined, had the desired effect. Jarvis unbent, and became more communicative. "Fact is," he said, squaring about, "I don't know my lay just yet."
"No?" inquiringly: "Going far out?"
"No."
"Well," as if about to drop the conversation, "I'm sorry you can't do the job. It's big pay and success sure. The truth is," lowering his voice confidentially, "there are two parties beside myself interested, and both have plenty of money. It's a snug sum to the man who does our work."
The detective looked grave, and then became confidential in his turn.
"The fact is,"—he was fond of using "facts" when it was possible to lug one in—"I am sent out to a small town as a sub."