The strangeness of the sight of
Lablache's twenty stone of flesh moving with lightning rapidity
astonished him beyond measure. Had he not seen it nothing would have
convinced him of the man's marvelous agility when roused by emergency.
It was something worth remembering.

Sure enough, the face on the other side of the window belonged to
Gautier, and, as Horrocks opened the door, the Breed pushed his way
stealthily in.

"It's all right, boss," said the man, with some show of anxiety, "I've
slipped 'em. I'm watched pretty closely, but--good evening, sir," he
went on, turning to Lablache with obsequious politeness. "This is bad
medicine--this business we're on."

Lablache cleared his throat and spat, but deigned no reply. He intended
to take no part in the ensuing conversation. He only wished to observe.

Horrocks at once became the officer to the subordinate. He turned
sharply on the Breed.

"Cut the cackle and come to business. Have you anything to tell us about
this Retief? Out with it sharp."

"That depends, boss," said the man, with a cunning smile. "As you sez.
Cut the cackle and come to business. Business means a deal, and a deal
means 'cash pappy.' Wot's the figger?"

There was no obsequious politeness about the fellow now. He was about as
bad a specimen of the Breed as could well be found. Hence his late
employment by the authorities. "The worse the Breed the better the spy,"
was the motto of those whose duty it was to investigate crime. Gautier
was an excellent spy, thoroughly unscruplous and rapacious. His
information was always a saleable commodity, and he generally found his
market a liberal one. But with business instincts worthy of Lablache
himself he was accustomed to bargain first and impart after.

"See here," retorted Horrocks, "I don't go about blind-folded. Neither
am I going to fling bills around without getting value for 'em. What's
your news? Can you lay hands on Retief, or tell us where the stock is
hidden?"

"Guess you're looking fer somethin' now," said the man, impudently. "Ef
I could supply that information right off some 'un 'ud hev to dip deep
in his pocket fur it. I ken put you on to a good even trail, an' fifty
dollars 'ud be small pay for the trouble an' the danger I'm put to. Wot
say? Fifty o' the best greenbacks?"

"Mr. Lablache can pay you if he chooses, but until I know that your
information's worth it I don't part with fifty cents. Now then, we've
had dealings before, Ga