11 The Brighter Buccaneer

"This bottle of stuff cost about a penny," said the Saint; and Mr. Parnock was amazed.

"I don't wonder you refused five thousand for it, Mr. Smith," he said, as smoothly as he could. "Now, if you had come to me in the first place and allowed me to act as your agent --"

"I want you to do even more than that."

Mr. Parnock's eyebrows moved smoothly upwards for about an eighth of an inch.

"Between ourselves," said the Saint bluntly, "I'm in the hell of a mess."

The faintest gleam of expression flitted across Mr. Parnock's smooth and fish-like eyes, and gave way to a gaze of expectant sympathy.

"Anything you wanted to tell me, Mr. Smith, would of course be treated confidentially."

"I've been gambling-living beyond my means-doing all sorts of silly things. You can see for yourself that I'm pretty young. I suppose I ought to have known better. . . . I've stopped all that now, but-two months ago I tried to get out of the mess. I gave a dud cheque. I tried to stay in hiding-I was working on this invention, and I knew I'd be able to pay everyone when I'd got it finished. But they found me last Friday. They've been pretty decent, in a way. They gave me till Wednesday noon to find the money. Otherwise -"

The Saint's voice broke, and he averted his face despairingly.

Mr. Parnock gazed down at the silvered ashtray, then at the letter which was still spread open on his blotter, and rubbed his smooth chin thoughtfully. He cleared his throat.

"Come, come!" he said paternally. "It isn't as bad as all that. With an asset like this invention of yours, you should have nothing to worry about."

"I told them all about it. They were just polite. Wednesday noon or nothing, and hard cash-no promises. I suppose they're right. But it's all so wrong! It's unjust!"

Simon stood up and shook his fists frantically at the ceiling; and Mr. Parnock coughed.

"Perhaps I could help," he suggested.

The Saint shook his head.

"That's what I came to see you about. It was just a desperate idea. I haven't got any friends who'd listen to me - I owe them all too much money. But now I've told you all about it, it all sounds so feeble and unconvincing. I wonder you don't send for the police right away."

He shrugged, and picked up his hat. Mr. Parnock, a cumber­some man, moved rather hastily to take it away from him and pat him soothingly on the shoulder.

"My dear old chap, you mustn't say things like that. Now let's see what we can do for you. Sit down." He pressed the Saint back towards his chair. "Sit down, sit down. We can soon put this right. What's the value of this cheque?"

"A thousand pounds," said the Saint listlessly. "But it might as well be a million for all the chance I've got of finding the money."

"Fortunately that's an exaggeration," said Mr. Parnock cheerfully. "Now this invention of yours - have you patented it?"

Simon snorted harshly.

"What with? I haven't had a shilling to call my own for weeks. I had to offer it to those people just as it stood, and trust them to give me a square deal."

Mr. Parnock chuckled with great affability. He opened a drawer and took out his chequebook.

"A thousand pounds, Mr. Smith? And I expect you could do with a bit over for your expenses. Say twenty pounds . . . One thousand and twenty pounds." He inscribed the figures with a flourish. "I'll leave the cheque open so that you can go to the bank and cash it at once. That'll take a load off your mind, won't it?"

"But how do you know you'll ever see it back, Mr. Parnock?"

Mr. Parnock appeared to ponder the point, but the appear­ance was illusory.

"Well, suppose you left me a copy of your formula? That'd be good enough security for me. Of course, I expect you'll let me act as your agent, so I'm not really running any risk. But just as a formality . . ."

The Saint reached for a piece of paper.

"Do you know anything about chemistry?"

"Nothing at all," confessed Mr. Parnock. "But I have a friend who understands these things."

Simon wrote on the paper and passed it over. Mr. Parnock studied it wisely, as he would have studied a Greek text.

Cu + Hg + HNO3 + St = CuHgNO3 + H2O +NO2 "Aha!" said Mr. Parnock intelligently. He folded the paper and stowed it away in his pocket-book, and stood up with his smooth fruity chuckle. "Well, Mr. Smith, you run along now and attend to your business, and come and have lunch with me on Thursday and let's see what we can do about your inven­tion."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Mr. Parnock," said the Saint almost tearfully as he shook the patent agent's smooth fat hand; but for once he was speaking nothing but the truth.

He went down to see Inwood again later that afternoon. He had one thousand pounds with him, in crisp new Bank of England notes; and the shabby old chemist's gratitude was worth all the trouble. Inwood swallowed several times, and blinked at the money dazedly.

"I couldn't possibly take it," he said.

"Of course you could, uncle," said the Saint. "And you will. It's only a fair price for your invention. Just do one thing for me in return."