“Very good. Now, I wish you would have a quiet talk with him. I can see that he reposes great confidence in you. You have admitted that my request is an honest one, so I hope you won’t mind just presenting my side of the case to him.”
“It is none of my business, Mr. Cammerford. I could not venture to take such a liberty with Mr. Hemster.”
“But you admit the old man isn’t playing fair?”
“I admit nothing of the sort: I don’t know his side of the story at all. He may have reasons for declining to deal with you, which seem to him conclusive.”
“Granted. But nevertheless, don’t you think he should return the money given on the strength of his promise?”
“Really I would rather not discuss the matter any further, Mr. Cammerford, if you don’t mind. I overheard you telling him at the head of the companion-way that you trusted him completely. Very well, then, why not continue to do so?”
Cammerford gave a short laugh that had little of mirth in it: his politeness was evidently becoming worn threadbare, and I imagine he was inwardly cursing my obstinacy. There was silence between us for several minutes, then he said sharply:
“Is this yarn about the kidnapping of his daughter all guff?”
“Who told you about it?” I asked.
“Oh, he did: gave that as the reason he didn’t wish to talk business.”