“Who is the man?” he asked, as though half-inclined to adopt the suggestion.
“I know two men. One is named Segal—a professor who writes for our papers; an exceedingly clever chap, who’d be certain to make out something more from the puzzle than we ever can hope to do. I also know Professor Griffin.”
“I shall not allow the papers out of my possession.”
“Or all that remains of them, you mean,” laughed the young man uneasily. “Why, of course not. That would be foolish.”
“Foolish in our mutual interests,” Diamond went on. “You are interested with myself, Mr Farquhar, in whatever profits may accrue from the affair.”
“Then if our interests are to be mutual, Doctor, why not entrust the further investigation to me?” suggested the wily young man. “I hope you know me sufficiently well to have confidence in my honesty.”
The Doctor cast a sharp look at the little young fellow at his side.
“Why, of course, Mr Farquhar,” he laughed. “As I’ve already said, you possess facilities for investigating the affair which I do not. If what I suspect be true, we have, in our hands, the solution of a problem which will startle the world. I have sought your assistance, and I’m prepared to give you—well, shall we say fifteen per cent, interest on whatever the secret may realise?”
“It may, after all, be only historical knowledge,” laughed young Farquhar. “How can you reduce that into ‘the best and brightest?’ Still, I accept. Fifteen per cent is to be my share of whatever profit may accrue. Good! I only wish Sir George were home from Egypt. He would, no doubt, give us assistance.”
The Doctor purposely disregarded this last remark. He held more than a suspicion that young Farquhar intended to “freeze him out.”