Willie smiles a patronising smile.
"There is not the slightest danger, aunt Nesta. It cannot explode without concussion. I have been carrying it about with me all the morning."
He bestowed on the test-tube the look a fond parent might give his favourite child. Mrs. Pett was not reassured.
"Go and put it in your uncle's safe at once. Put it away."
"I haven't the combination."
"Call your uncle up at once at the office and ask him."
"Very well. If you wish it, aunt Nesta. But there is no danger."
"Don't take that thing with you," screamed Mrs. Pett, as he rose. "You might drop it. Come back for it."
"Very well."
Conversation flagged after Willie's departure. The presence of the test-tube seemed to act on the spirits of the company after the fashion of the corpse at the Egyptian banquet. Howard Bemis, who was sitting next to it, edged away imperceptibly till he nearly crowded Ann off her chair. Presently Willie returned. He picked up the test-tube, put it in his pocket with a certain jauntiness, and left the room again.
"Now, if you hear a sudden bang and find yourself disappearing through the roof," said Jimmy, "that will be it."
Willie returned and took his place at the table again. But the spirit had gone out of the gathering. The voice of Clarence Renshaw was hushed, and Howard Bemis spoke no more of the influence of Edgar Lee Masters on modern literature. Mrs. Pett left the room, followed by Ann. The geniuses drifted away one by one. Jimmy, having lighted a cigarette and finished his coffee, perceived that he was alone with his old friend, Lord Wisbeach, and that his old friend Lord Wisbeach was about to become confidential.
The fair-haired young man opened the proceedings by going to the door and looking out. This done, he returned to his seat and gazed fixedly at Jimmy.
"What's your game?" he asked.
Jimmy returned his gaze blandly.
"My game?" he said. "What do you mean?"
"Can the coy stuff," urged his lordship brusquely. "Talk sense and talk it quick. We may be interrupted at any moment. What's your game? What are you here for?"
Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
"I am a prodigal nephew returned to the fold."
"Oh, quit your kidding. Are you one of Potter's lot?"
"Who is Potter?"
"You know who Potter is."
"On the contrary. My life has never been brightened by so much as a sight of Potter."
"Is that true?"
"Absolutely."
"Are you working on your own, then?"
"I am not working at all at present. There is some talk of my learning to be an Asparagus Adjuster by mail later on."
"You make me sick," said Lord Wisbeach. "Where's the sense of trying to pull this line of talk. Why not put your cards on the table? We've both got in here on the same lay, and there's no use fighting and balling the thing up."
"Do you wish me to understand," said Jimmy, "that you are not my old friend, Lord Wisbeach?"
"No. And you're not my old friend, Jimmy Crocker."
"What makes you think that?"
"If you had been, would you have pretended to recognise me upstairs just now? I tell you, pal, I was all in for a second, till you gave me the high sign."
Jimmy laughed.
"It would have been awkward for you if I really had been Jimmy Crocker, wouldn't it?"
"And it would have been awkward for you if I had really been Lord Wisbeach."
"Who are you, by the way?"
"The boys call me Gentleman Jack."
"Why?" asked Jimmy, surprised.
Lord Wisbeach ignored the question.
"I'm working with Burke's lot just now. Say, let's be sensible about this. I'll be straight with you, straight as a string."
"Did you say string or spring?"
"And I'll expect you to be straight with me."
"Are we to breathe confidences into each other's ears?"
Lord Wisbeach went to the door again and submitted the passage to a second examination.
"You seem nervous," said Jimmy.
"I don't like that butler. He's up to something."
"Do you think he's one of Potter's lot?"
"Shouldn't wonder. He isn't on the level, anyway, or why did he pretend to recognise you as Jimmy Crocker?"
"Recognition of me as Jimmy Crocker seems to be the acid test of honesty."
"He was in a tight place, same as I was," said Lord Wisbeach. "He couldn't know that you weren't really Jimmy Crocker until you put him wise—same as you did me—by pretending to know him." He looked at Jimmy with grudging admiration. "You'd got your nerve with you, pal, coming in here like this. You were taking big chances. You couldn't have known you wouldn't run up against some one who really knew Jimmy Crocker. What would you have done if this butler guy had really been on the level?"
"The risks of the profession!"
"When I think of the work I had to put in," said Lord Wisbeach, "it makes me tired to think of some one else just walking in here as you did."
"What made you choose Lord Wisbeach as your alias?"
"I knew that I could get away with it. I came over on the boat with him, and I knew he was travelling round the world and wasn't going to stay more than a day in New York. Even then I had to go some to get into this place. Burke told me to get hold of old Chester and get a letter of introduction from him. And here you come along and just stroll in and tell them you have come to stay!" He brooded for a moment on the injustice of things. "Well, what are you going to do about it, Pal?"
"About what?"
"About us both being here? Are you going to be sensible and work in with me and divvy up later on, or are you going to risk spoiling everything by trying to hog the whole thing? I'll be square with you. It isn't as if there was any use in trying to bluff each other. We're both here for the same thing. You want to get hold of that powder stuff, that Partridgite, and so do I."
"You believe in Partridgite, then?"
"Oh, can it," said Lord Wisbeach disgustedly. "What's the use? Of course I believe in it. Burke's had his eye on the thing for a year. You've heard of Dwight Partridge, haven't you? Well, this guy's his son. Every one knows that Dwight Partridge was working on an explosive when he died, and here's his son comes along with a test-tube full of stuff which he says could blow this city to bits. What's the answer? The boy's been working on the old man's dope. From what I've seen of him, I guess there wasn't much more to be done on it, or he wouldn't have done it. He's pretty well dead from the neck up, as far as I can see. But that doesn't alter the fact that he's got the stuff and that you and I have got to get together and make a deal. If we don't, I'm not saying you mightn't gum my game, just as I might gum yours; but where's the sense in that? It only means taking extra chances. Whereas if we sit in together, there's enough in it for both of us. You know as well as I do that there's a dozen markets which'll bid against each other for stuff like that Partridgite. If you're worrying about Burke giving you a square deal, forget it. I'll fix Burke. He'll treat you nice, all right."
Jimmy ground the butt of his cigarette against his plate.
"I'm no orator, as Brutus is; but, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man. And, speaking in the capacity of a plain, blunt man, I rise to reply—Nothing doing."
"What? You won't come in?"
Jimmy shook his head.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Wizzy, if I may still call you that, but your offer fails to attract. I will not get together or sit in or anything else. On the contrary, I am about to go to Mrs. Pett and inform her that there is a snake in her Eden."
"You're not going to squeal on me?"
"At the top of my voice."
Lord Wisbeach laughed unpleasantly.
"Yes, you will," he said. "How are you going to explain why you recognised me as an old pal before lunch if I'm a crook after lunch. You can't give me away without giving yourself away. If I'm not Lord Wisbeach, then you're not Jimmy Crocker."