Black sat on the table edge.
"I'll put them on to you down town—through Manford."
Garth laughed outright.
"You! You'd never have the nerve. Give a police surgeon one good look at you!"
Black fumbled in one of the drawers. He lifted out a cheque book.
"How much?" he asked with dry lips.
"Not money," Garth said.
He felt every nerve in his body tighten.
"When I saw you making a fool of yourself last night," he went on, "you had come straight from a house you are going to get me in to-night."
The cheque book fluttered to the floor.