“Nonsense! You talk like an ass,” Garland protested.
“Produce them, then,” frothed Nick. “Let’s have a look at them, at least. If they——”
“They are in the time-lock vault, with a thousand other pledges,” Garland hurriedly explained. “I cannot produce them without searching the entire vault. You cannot tell me the name under which they are pledged. I have no other means of finding them immediately. It would take me half a day to go through the vault and identify them. You talk like a fool, sir. Bring the ticket and the amount of the loan, and you shall have the jewels within half a minute.”
Nick continued to storm and argue.
While this was in progress, attracting the attention of all in the place, Moses Hart came from the private office. He did not pause to join in the dissension, however, but at once went on to a narrow window at the lower end of the long counter—that at which the seedy, sinister-looking man then was waiting.
Bending close to the window, Hart winked significantly and said, with his voice lowered:
“Do you want to make a bit of money?”
The fellow’s shifty eyes lighted eagerly.
“Does a hungry cat want meat?” he returned, in an expressive whisper.
“What’s your name?” Hart asked.