"I tell you," said Boris, almost earnestly, "that I found nothing."
"That is to say," said Paul, "nothing which you could turn to your own good account."
Boris smiled a sour yet demure little smile.
"Precisely," he said evenly.
"Permit me," said the baronet, just as quietly, "to inform you that you are a liar. I think you will be able to hand me something that is of interest to us both."
"I was not aware that I could," replied Boris, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
Paul picked up again the six-shooter which he had laid carelessly at his side.
"Try," he said, and his voice was gently persuasive.
Just a flicker of vindictiveness crept into Boris' eyes, and under the suasion of firearms he turned again to the bag.
After a few moments Paul, now schooled to infinite placidity, inquired for the second time if he had found anything.