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THE FOUR PHILANTHROPISTS

His flabby bulk seemed to shrink somewhat, and a kind of grayness stole over his large face. "Is it Gutermann?" he said.

"I shouldn't tell you if it were."

"Is it the Pudleigh-Scarlett crowd?"

"I shouldn't tell you if it were."

"Well, what did you come about?" he burst out, with sudden violence. "Not to warn me! Did you think I was going to offer you more to let me alone? I won't do it! I won't! I won't! I won't! There'd be no end of it! I know what blackmail is! The financial Press I have to square! It's part of the game! But nobody else, s'help me! Nobody! I'll go to the police! I will, indeed! I'll tell them everything—everything!" I have never seen anyone look more like a cornered rat.

"Really, you tempt me to leave you to the Company," I said coldly. "If you had had the sense to hear me out, you would have learned that I had found an escape for you. Now you may go to the police, and be hanged to you!" And I rose, with a stern and haughty air.

I had not made two steps before he was grovelling. "Sit down, Mr. Armitage! Sit down, please. I meant no offence. I—I'm always ready to listen to a business proposition. What is it? What's the way out?"

I sat down, sulkily, in the armchair again, and he mopped at his brow; he was plainly in no train-