Part 19 (2/2)
Pillingshot shuffled, then rose to a point of order.
”I've been reading those Sherlock Holmes stories,” he said, ”and Sherlock Holmes always got a fee if he brought a thing off. I think I ought to, too.”
”Mercenary young brute.”
”It has been a beastly sweat.”
”Done you good. Supplied you with a serious interest in life. Well, I expect Evans will give you something--a jewelled snuff-box or something--if you pull the thing off.”
”_I_ don't.”
”Well, he'll buy you a tea or something.”
”He won't. He's not going to break the quid. He's saving up for a camera.”
”Well, what are you going to do about it?”
Pillingshot kicked the leg of the table.
”_You_ put me on to the case,” he said casually.
”What! If you think I'm going to squander----”
”I think you ought to let me off f.a.gging for the rest of the term.”
Scott reflected.
”There's something in that. All right.”
”Thanks.”
”Don't mention it. You haven't found the quid yet.”
”I know where it is.”
”Where?”
”Ah!”
”Fool,” said Scott.
After breakfast next day Scott was seated in his study when Pillingshot entered.
”Here you are,” said Pillingshot.
<script>