But the man was apparently still far from satisfied, muttering, biting pieces out of his cap-lining, and spitting them upon the carpet, till a bright thought seemed to strike him, to which he gave birth. "Lookye here, gents. Let's have the money posted fair for both sides. I knows a genleman down our way as keeps a beer-shop as'd see fair, and make all square. Now, what do you say?" What would have been said was arrested by a sudden start, or rather jump, on the part of Mr John Screwby, who, following the direction of Sir Francis' eyes, found that another person had entered the room, and taken a place at his elbow, where he had stood for some few moments listening to the conversation. Volume 2, Chapter XXIV. SCREWBY'S "TIP." Mr John Screwby's face would have formed a worthy study for a painter; or, could some instantaneous photographer have secured his aspect, a _carte_ could have been produced that would have made the fortune of any speculator in heads of eminent men. For, as he started away, his jaw half dropped, his eyes staring, and fists clenched, he seemed, for the moment, turned into stone--a statue gazing at the quiet unmoved intruder upon the scene. "How do, Jack?" said the new-comer, quietly, as he took a slight glance from the corners of his eyes at the informer. "You're werry civil all 'twunst," said the fellow, recovering himself a little; "but you ain't got nothin' agen me!" "Not I, Jack--at least, not yet," said the new-comer, smiling. "But what brings you here? Smelt the reward?" The man stared, sniffed, rubbed his nose viciously upon his sleeve, and shuffled uneasily from foot to foot; but he did not answer. "He professes to hold the required information," said Sir Francis; "and he is afraid that we shall not duly perform our part of the contract. He is suspicious lest we should withhold part of the money--my friend here thinking that he ought first to prove the value of his tidings." "Of course," said the new-comer, with a commendatory nod of the head at Clayton; "he knows what business is, evidently. Not though, that our friend Jack Screwby here would do anything but what was of the most honourable description. He's a gent who would scorn a mean action, and as to taking advantage of anybody, there, bless your heart, you might trust him with a baby unborn." "None o' your gammon, now, can't you?" growled Jack. "Gammon! nonsense, Jack! It's all straightforward and above-board. You shall be all right. Now, look here--what do you know? If it's worth the two hundred pounds, you shall have the money clean down in your fist. I'll see that you do. Now are you satisfied?" "Fain sweatings," growled Mr Screwby, who was apparently far from being in as confident a state as he could have wished. "What does he say?" exclaimed Sir Francis. "He means, sir, that he don't want the reward money to be fiddled." "Fiddled?" said Sir Francis. "Yes, sir--thinned down, and deducted from."