“What, you mean Harper the goldsmith’s nevy?”
“The same.”
“I do—what then?”
“I presume you have come down on his business?”
“Well, you ain’t far out. He wants to get hold of Miss Wilton, too, you know.”
This was the merest surmise on the part of Chewkle. He knew that Harry Vivian was acquainted with the Wiltons; it was not difficult to guess pretty near the truth.
“I am aware of his insolent pretensions, as I am of the impossibility of their realization. I presume, as a man of the world, that service suits you best which pays you best.”
“A conjuring freelogonist couldn’t have told you my weakness better if he had his fingers on my bumps. That is my system.”
“Abandon the service you have undertaken, and serve me. Tell me what you receive, and I will double it.”
“You?”