“I don’t think it’s been altogether wasted,” he replied with studied hesitation, “though I could have liked to come back with an easier mind——”
“Be hanged to your easier mind!” spluttered Baldwin. “Is he going to let us have t’ brass, or isn’t he?—that’s t’ question I want answering. Are we to be shamed wi’ wer creditors, or aren’t we? I’ve no time to stand here while you’re raking your mind ower to find fine words.”
Inman looked at him steadily but gave no other sign of impatience.
“I think he’ll let you have the money,” he said calmly. “He’ll do his level best, anyway, and he’s promised not to pay Drakes or anyone till you’ve had what you want.”
“That’s what I’m waiting to get at,” growled Baldwin; “only I don’t like that word ‘think.’ If I’d ha’ gone I’d ha’ known; I wouldn’t ha’ thought; and John ’ud ha’ heard a piece o’ my mind into t’ bargain.”
“I was man, not master,” Inman explained, “that was why I should have liked it better if you’d gone yourself. I said all I dare say, seeing that I wasn’t boss; and I’d all my work cut out, I can tell you, to get him to promise.”
“It was a try-on, that’s what it was!” Angry as Baldwin showed himself there was a note of relief in his voice, and Inman knew that his master’s greatest care now was to conceal his satisfaction. “He can’t bear to part. T’ more he has and t’ more he wants,—the selfish devil. That’s one good thing you’ve worked anyway. I’ll bet he won’t try t’ same game on wi’ me again for a long time. There’s naught like letting ’em see ’at you can put your foot down.”
Inman made no comment, but looked steadily at his boots. He was skilled in all the cunning of face language; and though Baldwin had little of that lore he would have been a fool if he had not realised that his ambassador was holding something back.
“You look glum enough for a burying, spite o’ all your cleverness wi’ John,” he sneered. “What ails you?”
Inman appeared to rouse himself; but he spoke with unusual hesitation.