'What is all this nonsense about hens? You led me to suppose you were a substantial business man.'
'Old Bicky rather exaggerated, sir,' I said, helping the chappie out. 'The fact is, the poor old lad is absolutely dependent on that remittance of yours, and when you cut it off, don't you know, he was pretty solidly in the soup, and had to think of some way of closing in on a bit of the ready pretty quick. That's why we thought of this hand-shaking scheme.'
Old Chiswick foamed at the mouth.
'So you have lied to me! You have deliberately deceived me as to your financial status!'
'Poor old Bicky didn't want to go to that ranch,' I explained. 'He doesn't like cows and horses, but he rather thinks he would be hot stuff among the hens. All he wants is a bit of capital. Don't you think it would be rather a wheeze if you were to—'
'After what has happened? After this—this deceit and foolery? Not a penny!'
'But—'
'Not a penny!'
There was a respectful cough in the background.
'If I might make a suggestion, sir?'