The sight of so much good money going away from him was a cause of unspeakable anguish to the miserly Harvey, and if his eyes strayed away from that accumulation of wealth, they came back again almost instantly. Derrick Yale was a difficult man to offend. “Perhaps I am,” he said, “but I must run my own business in my own way, Mr. Froyant, and if I think that the girl can lead me to the Crimson Circle--as I do think--then I shall employ her.” “Mark my words,” Froyant shook his fingers in the detective’s face, “that girl is with the gang. You will discover, my friend, that _she_ is the messenger who will call for the money!” “In which case she will be immediately arrested,” said the other. “Believe me, Mr. Froyant, I have no intention of losing sight of these notes, but if they are taken by the Crimson Circle, the responsibility must be mine not yours. My job is to save your life, and to divert the vengeance of the Circle from you to myself.” “Quite right, quite right,” said Mr. Froyant hastily, “that is the proper way to look at it, Yale. I see that you are not as unintelligent as I thought. Have it your own way,” he said. He fingered the notes lovingly, and putting them into a long envelope, handed them, with every evidence of reluctance, to the detective, who slipped the package into his pocket. “I suppose there is no news of Brabazon? The rascal has robbed me of over two thousand pounds, which I foolishly invested in one of Marl’s rotten concerns.” “Did you know anything about Marl?” asked the detective, opening the door. “I only know that he was a blackguard.” “Did you know anything that isn’t as well known?” asked Yale patiently. “His beginnings, where he came from?” “He came from France, I believe,” said Froyant. “I know very little about him. In fact, it was James Beardmore who introduced me. There was some story about his having been concerned in land swindles in France, and of having been imprisoned there, but I never take much notice of gossip. He was useful to me, and I made quite a considerable sum out of most of my investments with him.” The other smiled. In those circumstances, he thought, the miser might very well forgive the erring Marl for his later losses. When he got back to his office he found Parr waiting, with Jack Beardmore. He had not expected a visit from the younger man, and guessed that the real attraction was Thalia Drummond, for whose absence he tactfully apologised. “I’ve sent Miss Drummond home, Parr,” he said. “I don’t want a girl mixed up in the business of this afternoon. There may be a little rough-and-tumble work.” He looked keenly at Jack Beardmore. “For which I hope you are prepared.” “I shall be disappointed if there isn’t,” said Jack cheerfully. “What is your plan?” asked Parr.