"When you've got to drive a motor car, and keep her properly tuned up, you've got to be about all there. By the way, would you mind giving me ten sovereigns instead of those two fivers?"
The change of subject was rather sudden; Mr Frazer glanced round, as if a trifle startled.
"With pleasure--if I have them. But what's wrong with the notes?"
"There's nothing wrong with them--as notes; I know that well enough, only--their numbers might be known, and, if they're traced, it wouldn't suit me to be asked how they came to be in my possession--not by a long chalk."
"I catch your meaning--you're a far-sighted man. However, I give you my word that the numbers of those notes are not known, in the sense you mean--thanking you very much for the insinuation."
"I daresay; still--I'd rather have the sovereigns. I sha'n't forget how artful you were in putting that peeler off the scent. Whereabouts in Ashington do you want me to put you down?"
"I don't care, so long as it is in Ashington. Aren't we nearly there?"
"That's Ashington, round the bend--that square tower's the town hall. It's new, the town hall is; they think more of it than I do--I call it a common-looking building."
"If you'll slow down I'll see if I can find the ten sovereigns you would rather have." He took several gold coins from a pocket in his trousers. "I've got them--here they are. If you'll give me those two notes, I sha'n't mind their being found in my possession. Now if you'll take us, say, a quarter of a mile farther, and then set us down, I'll be obliged."
"I'll set you down by the town hall--I know the chap who built it--he's a sort of cousin of my old mother's. It's the biggest job he's ever had, and he thinks no end of it. I tell him opinions differ--it does make him so wild."