Part 36 (2/2)
”Oh, I think not.”
”But, my dear chap, you can't keep this up. Playing taxi-way man is hardly your shop. And of course you understand you won't be permitted to engage in any more profitable pursuit until you make terms with the powers that be--or leave Paris.”
”Terms with Bannon, De Morbihan, Popinot and yourself--eh?”
”With the same.”
”Mr. Wertheimer,” Lanyard told him quietly, ”none of you will stop me if ever I make up my mind to take the field again.”
”You haven't been thinking of quitting it--what?” Wertheimer demanded innocently, opening his eyes wide.
”Perhaps...”
”Ah, now I begin to see a light! So that's the reason you've come down to tooling a taxi. I wondered! But somehow, Mr. Lanyard”--Wertheimer's eyes narrowed thoughtfully--”I can hardly see you content with that line... even if this reform notion isn't simple sw.a.n.k!”
”Well, what do you think?”
”I think,” the Englishman laughed--”_I_ think this conference doesn't get anywhere in particular. Our simple, trusting natures don't seem to fraternize as spontaneously as they might. We may as well cut the sparring and go, down to business--don't you think? But before we do, I'd like your leave to offer one word of friendly advice.”
”And that is--?”
”'Ware Bannon!”
Lanyard nodded. ”Thanks,” he said simply.
”I say that in all sincerity,” Wertheimer declared. ”G.o.d knows you're nothing to me, but at least you've played the game like a man; and I won't see you butchered to make an Apache holiday for want of warning.”
”Bannon's as vindictive as that, you think?”
”Holds you in the most poisonous regard, if you ask me. Perhaps you know why: I don't. Anyway, it was rotten luck that brought your car to the door tonight. He named you during dinner, and while apparently he doesn't know where to look for you, it is plain he's got no use for you--not, at least, until your att.i.tude towards the organization changes.”
”It hasn't. But I'm obliged.”
”Sure you can't see your way to work with us?”
”Absolutely.”
”Mind you, I'll have to report to the Old Man. I've got to tell him your answer.”
”I don't think I need tell you what to tell him,” said Lanyard with a grin.
”Still, it's worth thinking over. I know the Old Man's mind well enough to feel safe in offering you any inducement you can name, in reason, if you'll come to us. Ten thousand francs in your pocket before morning, if you like, and freedom to chuck this filthy job of yours--”
”Please stop there!” Lanyard interrupted hotly. ”I was beginning to like you, too... Why persist in reminding me you're intimate with the brute who had Roddy butchered in his sleep?”
”Poor devil!” Wertheimer said gently. ”That was a sickening business, I admit. But who told you--?”
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