For a moment McKildrick considered this hypothetical case. Then he asked: “Which bank are you thinking of opening?”
Roddy rose abruptly.
“I’ll show you,” he exclaimed.
That Roddy was acting, in spite of secret misgivings, was so evident, that McKildrick good-naturedly demurred.
“Better not tell me anything,” he protested, “that you’ll be sorry for when you’re sober.”
Roddy shook his head, and, not until they had left the suburbs and the last fisherman’s hut behind them and were on the open coast, did he again refer to the subject of their walk. Then he exclaimed suddenly; “And I forgot to mention that if Father finds out you advised me you will probably lose your job.”
McKildrick halted in his tracks.
“It’s a pity,” he agreed, “that you forgot to mention that. As a rule, when I give expert advice I get a fat check for it.”
“And what’s more,” continued Roddy, “if Alvarez finds it out you’ll go to jail.”
“Your piquant narrative interests me strangely,” said McKildrick. “What else happens to me?”