“Now I’ve an idea,” I went on, drawing a little closer. “You’ve been to Monte Carlo, of course, and know what a quantity of money there is in the place.”
“Some of it mine,” smiled Fanshawe. “I beg your pardon for interrupting you.”
“Well,” I said, “how would you like to join a little party of us for the purpose of getting it back?”
“A syndicate to work a system?”
“Nothing so unprofitable.”
“I don’t know of any other way.”
“My idea,” I went on, sinking my voice, “is shortly this: that half a dozen of us should join and take a yacht—a fast steam-yacht—”
“Rather an expensive way of doing it, isn’t it?” objected Fanshawe, in alarm. He doesn’t mind what he pays to have his books published, but is otherwise mean.
“Not when you consider the magnitude of the stakes.”
“Why, the most you can win, even if you break the bank, is only a hundred thousand francs!”