The girl produced the note-book from her bag and swept a practised eye down its cryptic pages.
“Here it is. These are the first words I heard through the opened door. They were spoken by Mr. Rockamore, and the other, Paddington, replied. This is what I heard:
“‘I don’t know what the devil you’re driving at, I tell you.’
“‘Oh, don’t you, Rockamore? Want me to explain? I’ll go into details if you like.’
“‘I’m hanged if I’m interested. My share in our little business deal with you was concluded some time ago. There’s an end of that. You’re a clever enough man to know the people you’re doing business with, Paddington. You can’t put anything over on us.’
“‘I’m not trying to. The deal you spoke of is over 132 and done with and I guess nobody’ll squeal. We’re all tarred with the same brush. But this is something quite different. We were pretty good pals, Rockamore, so naturally, when I heard something about you which might take a lot of explaining to smooth over, if it got about, I kept my mouth shut. I think a good turn deserves another, at least among friends, and when I got in a hole I remembered what I did for you, and I thought you’d be glad of a chance to give me a leg up.’
“‘In other words you come here with a vague threat and try to blackmail me. That’s it, isn’t it?’
“‘Blackmail is not a very pleasant term, Rockamore, and yet it is something which even you might attempt. Get me? Of course the others would be glad to help me out, but I thought I’d come to you first, since I––well, I know you better.’
“‘How much do you want?’
“‘Only ten thousand. I’ve got a tip on the market and if I can raise the coin before the stock soars and buy on margin, I’ll make a fine little coup. Want to come in on it, Rockamore?’