"And whom am I going to drink with, may I ask?"
The man carefully drew the cork of a bottle, poured out its contents with
the discrimination of a bartender, handed the glass to his visitor with a
bow, helped himself to a measure of rum, and bowed again as he drank.
"My best respects to you, guv'nor," he said. "Glad to see you in Hobkin's
Hole Castle--that's here. Queer place for gentlemen to meet in, ain't it?
Who are you talking to, says you? My name, guv'-nor--well-known
hereabouts--is Zachary Spurge!"
"You sent me that note last night?" asked Copplestone, taking a seat and
filling his pipe. "How did you get it there--unseen?"
"Got a cousin as is odd-job man at the 'Admiral's Arms,'" replied
Spurge. "He slipped it in for me. You may ha' seen him there,
guv'nor--chap with one eye, and queer-looking, but to be trusted. As I
am!--down to the ground."
"And what do you want to see me about?" inquired Copplestone. "What's
this bit of news you've got to tell?"
Zachary Spurge thrust a hand inside his velveteen jacket and drew out a
much folded and creased paper, which, on being unwrapped, proved to be
the bill which offered a reward for the finding of Bassett Oliver. He
held it up before his visitor.
"This!" he said. "A thousand pound is a vast lot o' money, guv'nor! Now,
if I was to tell something as I knows of, what chances should I have of
getting that there money?"
"That depends," replied Copplestone.
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