"Very well, then. He shall write checks payable to self or order, indorse them, and I will pay them into my account."
"I dare not approve of any such procedure."
So Philip, though sorely tried, again labored his arguments that the trial of Grenier would be a cause célèbre in which his, Anson's, name would be unpleasantly prominent. Evelyn would be drawn into it, and Abingdon himself. There would be columns of sensation in the newspapers.
Moreover, it was quite certain that Jocky Mason would commit suicide unless they captured him by a subterfuge, and then the whole story would leak out.
It ended by Philip gaining the day, for, at the bottom of his heart, Abingdon was touched by Mason's story—thoroughpaced ruffian though he was.
They re-entered No. 41. The pair were sitting as they were left; Grenier was not even smoking. The affair of the Blue Atom had deeply wounded his vanity.
Philip walked straight to Mason, and took him by the shoulder.
"Now, listen to me," he said. "I gave you one crack on the head, and you have given me one. Shall we say that accounts are squared?"
"Do you mean it, sir?"
"Yes, absolutely."