“It seems to me,” he said, “that we have all the technicalities arranged now. So far as the working of the expedition is concerned, we know our places, and the difficulties will be met as they present themselves. But there is one thing which I think we should set in order now. I have been thinking about it while I have been waiting here alone.” The glow of Victor Durnovo's cigar died away as if in his attention he was forgetting to smoke; but he said nothing. “It seems to me,” Jack went on, “that before we leave here we should draw up and sign a sort of deed of partnership. Of course, we trust each other perfectly--there is no question of that. But life is an uncertain thing, as some earlier philosopher said before me; and one never knows what may happen. I have drawn up a paper in triplicate. If you have a match, I will read it to you.” Oscard produced a match, and, striking it on his boot, sheltered it with the hollow of his hand, while Jack read: “We, the undersigned, hereby enter into partnership to search for and sell, to our mutual profit, the herb known as Simiacine, the profits to be divided into three equal portions, after the deduction of one-hundredth part to be handed to the servant, Joseph Atkinson. Any further expenses that may be incurred to be borne in the same proportion as the original expense of fitting out the expedition, namely, two-fifths to be paid by Guy Cravener Oscard, two-fifths by John Meredith, one-fifth by Victor Durnovo. “The sum of fifty pounds per month to be paid to Victor Durnovo, wherewith he may pay the thirty special men taken from his estate and headquarters at Msala to cultivate the Simiacine, and such corn and vegetables as may be required for the sustenance of the expedition; these men to act as porters until the plateau be reached. “The opinion of two of the three leaders against one to be accepted unconditionally in all questions where controversy may arise. In case of death each of us undertakes hereby to hand over to the executors of the dead partner or partners such moneys as shall belong to him or them.” At this juncture there was a little pause while Guy Oscard lighted a second match. “And,” continued Jack, “we hereby undertake severally, on oath, to hold the whereabouts of the Simiacine a strict secret, which secret may not be revealed by any one of us to whomsoever it may be without the sanction, in writing, of the other two partners.” “There,” concluded Jack Meredith, “I am rather pleased with that literary production: it is forcible and yet devoid of violence. I feel that in me the commerce of the century has lost an ornament. Moreover, I am ready to swear to the terms of the agreement.” There was a little pause. Guy Oscard took his pipe from his mouth, and while he knocked the ashes out against the leg of his chair he mumbled, “I swear to hold that agreement.”