"In the Little Anna Gold-Mine," Hefferom repeated distinctly.

Deane leaned back in his chair. "I must ask you to explain yourself," he said. "The Little Anna Gold-Mine belongs to the syndicate of which I am a director."

"That's all very well for a bluff," answered Hefferom, "but you got rid of Sinclair a little too easily."

"Got rid of him?"

"Oh! I'm not thinking of this last time," Hefferom interrupted, with a hard laugh. "I am thinking of the time he put you on to the mine, and you took possession of it."

"It was perfectly legal," Deane remarked.

"Perhaps so,--perhaps it wasn't," Hefferom answered. "Anyway, I know very well, and so, probably, do you, that Sinclair left South Africa six months ago, with the government t.i.tle-deed of the Little Anna Gold-Mine in his pocket. I advanced him the money to come, and he made me his partner."

"These are amazing statements of yours," Deane said. "May I ask where is this wonderful deed?"

"You may ask," Hefferom answered, "but not me. Better go to Rowan. He knows, though he keeps his lips tight shut. He knows, and so do you!

Never mind about that. You don't want a lawsuit,--no more do we."

"Who are 'we'?" Deane asked.

"Miss Sinclair and myself," Hefferom answered. "We are partners in this.

I have come to you as a reasonable man. Sinclair landed in this country with the t.i.tle-deeds of the mine which you have always considered yours, in his pocket. To-day he is murdered, and his papers have disappeared.

He was murdered by Rowan, whom you are now befriending. There's a story there for the newspapers,--there's something more than a story, Deane."

"Do I understand," Deane asked calmly,--

"You can understand what you please," Hefferom said. "I want my money back, and I want big interest. And then there's the girl. She should be standing at this moment in your shoes. Half of the Little Anna Gold-Mine is hers by right. It is for you to say what it would be worth your while to put down to close this business."

"Now," Deane remarked suavely, "you are talking common sense. But what I should like to know is, where is this wonderful t.i.tle-deed?"

"Oh, d--n you, it's in the fire, I suppose!" Hefferom cried. "You and he know. Rowan's your man, and he's the sort to die game. But he didn't kill Sinclair for nothing. I wouldn't mind betting that that deed has been burnt to ashes, but even then, I know a little too much, eh?"

Deane shrugged his shoulders. "You know a great deal too much," he said.

"I am to understand, then, finally, that you want me to buy your silence?"

"Put it that way if you choose," Hefferom answered, "only I warn you that I haven't come here on a child's game. This is a big business,--a big business for me and for the girl. She must have her share, and I mine."

"And the amount?"

"One hundred thousand pounds. Remember that it has to be divided."

"In other words," remarked Deane, "I am to buy your silence as to these matters upon which you have spoken, for the sum of one hundred thousand pounds?"

"It is too little," Hefferom declared. "The mine is worth ten times as much--the mine and your position."

"If I give you this sum," Deane asked, "do I understand that it closes the whole affair? You must remember that I do not admit having even seen this deed you spoke of. Supposing it turns up in somebody else's hands?"

Hefferom laughed ironically. "We'll guarantee you against that," he declared.

"That's easy to say," Deane objected, "but I don't see how. Come, I will be perfectly truthful. I haven't got that deed. If it should be still in existence, and be used against me after I have paid you this sum of money, I should be in somewhat an unfortunate position."

"There isn't the slightest fear of it," Hefferom said. "Besides--"

"Besides what?" Deane asked, looking up from his desk.

"It isn't as though the deed were a certainty," he said slowly. "Of course, the law is a little complicated. There would be witnesses on both sides, and the case might go anyhow."

"It would depend a little, I think," Deane said quietly, "on which side you gave evidence for. I think you could upset that deed if you chose."

"Perhaps I could," Hefferom said gruffly.

"Will you do it," Deane asked, "if it should ever be set into action against me? Remember that even though I know you will not believe me, the fact remains that although I have defended Rowan, I am not in possession of that deed."

Hefferom leaned across from his chair. "Listen, Deane," he said. "I am not here to bluff about that wonderful doc.u.ment. Perhaps it isn't worth the paper it's written on. Anyhow, here's my word for it. I'll see if ever an action is brought against you on the strength of that deed, that you blow it all sky high in five minutes."

"Is the deed a forgery?" Deane asked.

Hefferom did not answer.

"Or is it only the date?" Deane continued.

Still Hefferom was silent. Then, "There is no necessity," he said, after a pause, "of putting these things into plain words. You have only to find the money, and your anxieties are over."

Deane touched a bell by his side. "Yours, I am afraid," he answered, "are only just beginning!"

The curtains behind were suddenly thrown aside. A tall, spare-looking man stepped out. Deane turned towards him.

"Inspector," he said, "I give this man in charge for a barefaced attempt at blackmailing me. You have heard all that has been said. I don't think that there is anything for me to add."

He rang the bell by his side a second time. A moment later a policeman entered from the outer office. Hefferom, who had sprung to his feet, was glaring at them both, white with pa.s.sion.

"So this is your game, Deane!" he exclaimed. "By the Lord, you shall pay for it! You to dare to use the law against me,--you, who sent Rowan like a paid a.s.sa.s.sin to murder Sinclair!"

"A gross calumny," Deane answered calmly. "I had no interest in Sinclair's life or death."

"It's a d--d lie!" cried Hefferom. "If you are going to do any arresting, inspector, arrest that man!" he cried, pointing with his fat white forefinger to where Deane stood, debonair and well-dressed as usual, and with a little bunch of violets in his b.u.t.tonhole. "I tell you that he paid the man Rowan to kill Bully Sinclair in the Universal Hotel. I tell you I can prove it. I can prove this--that Sinclair left South Africa six months ago, with the deeds of the Little Anna Gold-Mine, which this man dared to sell as being his own at close upon a million pounds less than six months ago. I can tell you more!--"

They led him from the room, still shouting. At the door he turned back.

"It's a bold game this, Deane," he cried, "but by heavens I'll cry quits with you before long! You think you have a case against me. I am only certain of one thing, and that is that you have driven a nail into your own coffin. If I could only get at you, you--you blackguard!"

His eyes were bloodshot. He strained and struggled to free himself from the grasp of the two men.

"I'd kill you where you stand!" he cried. "Do you think that I can be muzzled? Do you think that the truth won't come to light? People shall know it even if I never leave off telling it till my last breath comes."

Deane listened to him with immovable face. They got him outside at last.

He heard him being dragged down the corridor, protesting all the time.

Then he resumed his seat. "It's a bold game to play," he said to himself thoughtfully, "and yet, if they really haven't the deed, there was nothing else to be done!"