The valet, warmed by his potations, gave another sniff of contempt. “Not he; that’s where he bluffs again. I know it for a fact. I overheard him one morning put a fiver on a horse over the telephone; it won at six to one. That same evening, when I was bringing in the whisky, he told a pal of his right before me he’d laid a hundred. Of course, he didn’t know I’d heard him in the morning. That’s how he got the reputation of wealth, by bluffing, gassing and lying.” It was clear that Simmons hated his employer with the deadly rancour of a man deprived of his legitimate “pickings,” for he proceeded to further disclosures, not at all redounding to Sir George’s credit. He emitted a sardonic chuckle. “I overheard a little conversation between him and that precious nephew of his one day, and I soon put the pieces together, though I wasn’t in at the beginning of it. It seems Sir George had changed a cheque for thirty pounds at one of his clubs, in the expectation of some money coming in the next day. Well, the money hadn’t come in, and he was in a frightful stew. ‘If I can’t pay-in the first thing to-morrow morning, I’m done, and I shall be had up before the Committee. The bank won’t let me overdraw five pounds; the manager refused me a week ago when I begged the favour of him.’ That’s your wealthy man. Bah! I’m a poor chap enough, but I believe I could buy him up if he was for sale.” Lane shrugged his shoulders. “If you weren’t in the know you’d hardly credit it, would you, Mr. Simmons?” “By George, he was in a stew. I remember his words to his nephew; he almost screamed them; ‘Archie, old boy, you must stand by me, you must get me that money this afternoon, or it’s all up with me.’ Queer sort of thing to say, wasn’t it, Mr. Cox.” “Very queer,” agreed the detective. “Did you hear young Brookes’s reply? I take it you were listening outside the door.” “I was,” admitted Mr. Simmons, quite unabashed. It was evident he was a very curious sort of person, and spent a considerable portion of his time eavesdropping. “Young Archie was talking extremely low, and I couldn’t catch very distinctly what he said. But there was a bit of an argument between the two. I thought I caught the words, ‘it’s so soon after the other,’ and then Sir George almost screamed out again, ‘I can’t help that; I tell you it’s got to be done.’” “An interesting couple,” remarked the supposed Mr. Cox. He was quite sure now of the kind of man Mr. Simmons was. Should he approach him at once or cultivate him a little further before he did so? Being a cautious man and disinclined to do things in a hurry, he chose the waiting policy. So he asked the valet when he would be likely to meet him there again, at the same time proffering another whisky.