"
"Not such a bad boss," remarked Langholm, dryly; and the words set him
thinking a moment on his own account. "And what happened to you?" he
added, abandoning reflection by an effort.
"I stayed on."
"Forgiven?"
"If you like to put it that way."
"And you both filed the secret for future use!"
"Don't talk through your neck, mister," said Abel, huffily. "What are
you drivin' at?"
"You kept this secret up your sleeve to play it for all it was worth in
a country where it would be worth more than it was in the back-blocks?
That's all I mean."
"Well, if I did, that's my own affair."
"Oh, certainly. Only you came here at your own proposal in order, I
suppose, to sell this secret to me?"
"Yes, to sell it."
"Then, you see, it is more or less my affair as well."
"It may be," said Abel, doggedly. And his face was very evil as he
struck a match to relight his pipe; but before the flame Langholm had
stepped backward, with his stick, that no superfluous light might fall
upon his thin wrists and half-filled sleeves.
"You are sure," he pursued, "that Mr. Minchin was in possession of this
precious secret at the time of his death?"
"I told it him myself.
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