Your course is perfectly clear--take no notice of it." John Martin was silent--dazed. He did not know what to think or do! There was something painfully ominous to him in the discovery of the
money and the water--something that accentuated the impression Hamar's
sinister appearance had made on him. The man did not look
ordinary--his manner, gestures, walk and expression were decidedly
abnormal--in fact they put him in mind of the superphysical. The
superphysical! Might not that account for his knowledge? Bah! There
was no such thing as the superphysical. The man was extraordinary--but,
after all, only a man--his knowledge only that of a man. And it must
be as the shrewd Gladys conjectured--he had put the money in the tree
himself and had learned of the presence of water through some subtle
artifice--perhaps only guessed at it. He would defy him--let him do
what he would! This was John Martin's decision as he finished tea. An hour later he
had changed his mind, and was speaking to Hamar on the telephone,
expressing his willingness to grant him a brief interview if he came
at once. In rather less than an hour a motor drew up at the Martins' door and
Hamar stepped out of it. "Glad to find you in a more tractable mood, Mr. Martin," he exclaimed
on being ushered into the latter's presence. "I reckoned you would
sing to a different tune when you found that water. Would you like me
to give you a few more samples of my skill, before we proceed to
business?" "Name your business at once," John Martin replied gruffly; "I haven't
many minutes to spare." "No!" Hamar said, "that's a pity; because part of what I have at the
back of my brain may take more than a few minutes arranging. The
situation in a nutshell is this. You have a pretty daughter, Mr. Martin?" "How dare you, sir?" John Martin broke in, clenching his fist. "Gently, gently, Mr. Martin!" Hamar observed, backing towards the
door. "Gently--you promised to give me a courteous hearing. I meant no
offence. I say I admire your daughter immensely--she takes the shine
out of our American girls." "The deuce she does!" John Martin foamed. "She does, you bet!" Hamar went on. "And I see no reason if she likes
me, why we couldn't get engaged. I would do the thing handsomely as
far as money goes. What do you say?" "I say that unless you're very careful I shall break my promise and
kick you." "I would pay you a big lump sum to take me into partnership," Hamar
went on complacently, "and I would introduce a number of new tricks
that would stagger creation. I shouldn't be in any hurry to marry--the
length of the engagement would be for you to decide." "Then it would be _ad infinitum_," John Martin said grimly, "for
you'll never get my consent to a marriage." "Never is a long day--and even a John Martin may change. You want new
blood and new capital in your Firm--you would have both in me. I
assure you your show would boom as it has never boomed before!" "And the only condition on which you offer me all this is my
daughter?" "You have said it--that is the one and only condition. Your
daughter--my brains, my dollars." "I have decided!" John Martin said. "Good!" Hamar exclaimed; "I guessed you would! There's nothing like
the almighty dollar, is there?" "Yes!" John Martin rejoined; "the almighty fist--and that's what
you'll get if you don't clear out of this house instantly. And if you
ever come skulking round here again, or write me any more letters I'll
set my. solicitor on to you." "Then it's war--war to the knife!" Hamar sneered. "How melodramatic! But it won't last long. I shall yet be your partner--and I shall yet
have Miss Gladys! Au revoir--I won't say good-bye!" and with a mock
bow he hurriedly took his departure. That night Messrs. Martin and Davenport's entertainment had progressed
as usual for about half an hour when it suddenly came to a full stop. A man in the lowest tier of boxes had risen and was addressing the
audience in a loud voice: "Ladies and gentlemen!" In an instant all heads swung round and there were stentorian shouts
of "Silence!" But Curtis--for it was he--was not easily daunted. "Do you call this
fair play!" he demanded; "I am here to-night to make a sporting offer,
and one which will afford you vast entertainment." Cries of "Shut up!" "Silence!" "He's drunk!" "Turn him out!" merging
into one loud roar forced him to pause. Several uniformed officials
now invaded the box, but Hamar--who, as well as Kelson, was with
Curtis--fixing them with his big dark eyes that gleamed eerily in the
half-lowered lights of the house--for the stage only at that moment
was fully illuminated--held them in check, and they hung back not
knowing what to do. This move of Hamar's took with a large section of
the audience--some of whom were possessed with sporting instincts,
whilst others were merely curious--and the somewhat premature cries of
"Turn him out!" etc., were soon lost in vociferous shouts of: "Let
them alone!" "Let them speak!" "Let us hear what they have to say." It
was in the midst of this hubbub that John Martin in a great state of
nervous agitation came to the front of the stage and inquired the
cause of the commotion. The shouting still continued, and Gladys, who
had come to the performance anticipating something of the sort, called
to her father, from the wings, bidding him give Curtis permission to
speak. "You will lose all sympathy if you don't, Father," she added; "and
besides you have nothing to fear. It's sheer bravado and impudence on
their part." Thus advised, for Gladys was a level-headed girl, John Martin gave in;
and the audience showed their approval by a vigorous round of
clapping. "I wish I were spokesman," Kelson sighed, his eyes glistening at the
sight of so many pretty upturned faces. "Go on, old man!" he added,
giving Curtis a nudge. "Fire away, and show them you know a bit about
elocution, for the credit of the Firm." Curtis needed no encouragement. What little bashfulness he had once
possessed he had certainly left behind in San Francisco, for he leaned
over the front of the box and smiled familiarly at the audience. "I am Edward Curtis," he said, "one of the directors of the Modern
Sorcery Company Ltd. Messrs. Martin and Davenport have so often
boasted that no one outside their firm can perform their tricks that I
have come here to-night resolved to disillusion them. I not only
accept their offer of ten thousand pounds for the solution of their
tricks, but I agree to pay them double that amount--cash down--if I do
not do everything they do--from 'The Brass Coffin' to their
world-famed 'Pumpkin Puzzle.' With Messrs. Martin and Davenport's
permission I will explain one and all of their tricks to you to-night,
and the only thing I ask of you, ladies and gentlemen, is to see that
I get fair play."