“He told me so himself,” was the answer.
“Oh!” laughed the other. “Then it's just some dodge that he's up to!”
“You think he hasn't sold?”
“I don't think it, I know it,” said Bates. “At any rate, he hadn't sold three days ago. I had a letter from my brother saying that they were expecting to land a big oil contract with the government that would put them on Easy Street for the next five years!”
Montague said no more. But he did some thinking. Experience had sharpened his wits, and by this time he knew a clew when he met it. A while later, when Bates had gone and his brother had come in with Alice, he got Oliver off in a corner and demanded, “How much are you to get out of that oil contract?”
The other stared at him in consternation. “Good heavens!” he exclaimed. “Did he tell you about it?”
“He told me some things,” said Montague, “and I guessed the rest.”
Oliver was watching him anxiously. “See here, Allan,” he said, “you'll keep quiet about it!”
“I imagine I will,” said the other. “It's none of my business, that I can see.”
Then suddenly Oliver broke into a smile of amusement. “Say, Allan!” he exclaimed. “He's a clever dog, isn't he!”