"If you go in it's all up with me," he said, despondently. "But we'll play fair."
The eyes which he lifted were honest and straightforward.
"You're a man, Dillard; shake hands!" said John.
"Now to business," resumed the speaker, producing a black briar pipe and filling it slowly from a "hand" of natural leaf which lay on the top of his desk. "You're a banker, Dillard. How's a fellow to transfer money to another fellow and not let the other fellow nor anyone else in the world know anything about it?" The round face before him broke into a smile, at the same time becoming thinly veiled by the smoke of a light cigar.
"That takes me back to school," he answered. "It sounds exactly like one of those puzzle problems in arithmetic which I used to sweat and groan over. It's about as hard, too, don't you think?"
"Harder, by far. It seems impossible on the face of it, but it must be done. You're the banker; you can't expect me to teach you your business. I'll give you half an hour to solve it. In the meantime I'll be thinking, too, just for mind culture."
"You'd better think of something closer to hand, for I'll never unriddle it."
"Not another word for half an hour!" commanded John, placing his open watch upon the table between them. "We'll pass this night in silence periods of thirty minutes duration each, then have five minutes recess after each, unless one or the other has solved the great question. It is now ten-thirty. Aren't you sorry you came in?--To work!"
He tilted his chair, elevated his heels to the other end of the table, let the long-stemmed pipe sink between his two hands, and lapsed into a meditative silence.
Dillard kept his feet on the floor, probably because of his extra amount of flesh, and likewise endeavoured to think. Just as the first half hour was up the figment of a tenable plan floated into Glenning's brain.
"How goes it?" he asked, squinting across at the placid face of his friend.
"Slow. You're right; it's worse than arithmetic."
"I've started," announced John, quietly elated. "Give me another thirty minutes, and I believe I can let you go home."
"Proceed," was the laconic reply, and again silence.
Glenning, searching desperately about in his mind, had really hit upon an entirely feasible way to carry out his idea. The project quickly developed as he brought his brain into active service, and long before the time he had asked for had expired, it was all clear, and ready to his hand.