“Yes, sir.”
“My name is Stranleigh. I took the liberty of calling upon you to learn, if possible, the whereabouts of Mr. Stanley Armstrong.”
“Why should I know anything of his whereabouts?” demanded Ricketts.
“Permit me to explain——”
“Now, before we go any further,” interrupted the lawyer, “I want you to know that this is a business office, and I’m a business man. My time is valuable. I thought when you came in that you were a client. If you have come here for aimless gossip, I’m not your man. I have my own affairs to look after.”
“You state the case very lucidly, Mr. Ricketts, and I congratulate your clients. My own time is far from precious, for I’m here after sport. How valuable is your time? How much does an hour’s conference with you cost?”
“It all depends on the business transacted.”
“I can’t agree with you, Mr. Ricketts. An hour is an hour. I want to buy sixty minutes of your time and attention. What do you ask for it?”
“Five dollars!” snapped Ricketts.
Stranleigh drew forth a five-dollar bill, and placed it on the table.