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He laughed.
“Er—you know something of old Drew’s affairs,” he ventured. “Must be a very rich man?”
“Must be,” said I.
“That mine you worked in? Big money maker?”
“Big money maker.” I repeated his words intentionally. He was frank, at any rate. What cruel thoughts were stirring behind those green eyes? Henry Drew out of the way, Carlotta with the added charm of millions———
“But he’s only fifty,” I said as unkindly as I could.
“Only fifty?”
“Sure—the party,” I explained.
Parker shook his head.
“Looks more than fifty to me,” he said quite hopefully.
Hung Chin-chung, a strange figure in that Occidental lobby, stood suddenly before me, bowing low. Drew’s car was waiting, he said.
48
