"I am a business man," he said, "and I will make a business proposal: A hundred guineas for the box, cash down, and our commission to be ten per cent on the proceeds of the contents. You must remember," raising a fat forefinger to check Smith, who was about to interrupt him, "that it may be necessary to force the box in order to open it, thereby decreasing its market value and making it a bad bargain at a hundred guineas."
Nayland Smith met my gaze across the room; again a slight smile crossed the lean, tanned face.
"I can only reply, Mr. Meyerstein," he said, "in this way: if I desire to place the box on the market, you shall have first refusal, and the same applies to the contents, if any. For the moment if you will send me a note of your fee, I shall be obliged." He raised his hand with a conclusive gesture. "I am not prepared to discuss the question of sale any further at present, Mr. Meyerstein."
At that the dealer bowed, took up his hat from the table, and prepared to depart. Lewison opened the door and stood aside.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Meyerstein.
As Lewison was about to follow him—
"Since you do not intend to open the box," he said, turning, his hand upon the door knob, "have you any idea of its contents?"
"None," replied Smith; "but with my present inadequate knowledge of its history, I do not care to open it."
Lewison smiled skeptically.
"Probably you know best," he said, bowed to us both, and retired.