Schwartz gazed at her with amazement. He was burning to ask her a dozen questions, but Dan came scratching and sniffing at the door, so they might be interrupted any moment. The man dared not forego the opportunity of clinching the bargain, yet his greed kept him back.
“Fifty pounds!—expenses!“ he protested. ”Why, how much do you expect me to pay for the thing itself?”
“No matter,” said Minkie. “I can easily get the money elsewhere.”
He knew she meant the Manor House, and that frightened him. Dan kept scratching away, and saying: “Let me in! What’s on? Bones and cleavers, open the door!” Schwartz produced a pocketbook, and pulled out a note.
“There!” he cried, “will that suffice?”
It was fifty pounds all right, but Minkie did not trouble to examine it.
“Yes,” she said. “I can change it at the bank if necessary.”
“And you promise—”
“You shall have your ju-ju on New Year’s Day.”
“But I insist on learning something further as to its safety. How can you be sure Prince John—”