"And so you see," Holman said, and flung his coat upon the sands, and took a pack of cards from one of the pockets and shuffled them absently, "you don't stand to lose anyhow. If you win it's quits; if I win you get half your losses bade and simply render me a service which will trespass only on a few days--a week or two at most--of your time. It strikes me as a fairly generous offer." "It's the undeniable generosity that gives it its Blackguard look," was the answer. "What's the nature of the service? ... You say you want me to deliver a letter to a certain person of Dutch extraction and to bring you back his reply. That would sound all right if there were no postal facilities; but in view of the very excellent postal arrangements in this country the request wears a sinister aspect. I don't want to offend you, but--it's shady, this business? Plainly I can't go into the thing with my eyes shut." "I don't ask you to. At the same time, the less wide open they are the better. There is nothing shadier in it than is customary in the gamble of party politics. It's an attempt to overthrow the government. That, I take it, won't disturb you particularly; you're not interested. Despite your appreciation of the postal arrangements of this country, there is a leakage somewhere. I don't choose to have my private communications tapped, that is why I send important messages by hand." Matheson pondered this, put a few questions as to the policy of the present government and the reason for the other's objection to it, and then lay full length on his lack on the sands and deliberated upon the offer. Judged on its face-value it was worthy of consideration--the whole of his losses, which were considerable, back if he won; and if he lost half of them returned to him, with the sole obligation of carrying a letter for a friend, who was presumably a political agitator, and to return to him bearing a reply to his communication.