“All right,” said Neeland; “take it. But bring it back. And here’s a sovereign. And—one thing more. If anybody pays you to deceive me, come to me and I’ll outbid them. Is that a bargain?”
“Yes, sir,” she said unblushingly.
When she had gone away with the handkerchief, Neeland closed the door again and said to the steward:
“Keep an eye on my door. I am positive that somebody has taken a wax impression of the keyhole. What I said to that stewardess also holds good with you. I’ll outbid anybody who bribes you.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Sure it’s good! It’s devilish good. Here’s a beautiful and newly minted gold sovereign. Isn’t it artistic? It’s yours, steward.”
“Thanky, sir.”
“Not at all. And, by the way, what’s that invalid gentleman’s name?”
“’Awks, sir.”
“Hawks?”