The Affair of the Avalanche Bicycle and Tyre, Co., Ltd. | Page 9

am only shoving you this thread as an act of grace, to prove that I have stumped you with perfect fairness. And now the hundred. Here's a fountain pen, if you want one."
"Well," said Mallows glumly, "I suppose I must, then." He took the pen and wrote the cheque. Dorrington blotted it on the pad of his pocket-book and folded it away.
"So much for that!" he said. "That's just a little preliminary, you understand. We've done these little things just as a guarantee of good faith -- not necessarily for publication, though you must remember that as yet there's nothing to prevent it. I've the done you a turn by finding out who upset those bicycles, as you so ardently wished me to do last night, and you've loyally fulfilled your part of the contract by paying the promised reward -- though I must say that you haven't paid with all the delight and pleasure you spoke of at the time. But I'll forgive you that, and now that the little hors d'?uvre is disposed of, we'll proceed to serious business."
Mallows looked uncomfortably glum.
"But you mustn't look so ashamed of yourself, you know," Dorrington said, purposely misinterpreting his glumness. "It's all business. You were disposed for a little side flutter, so to speak -- a little speculation outside your regular business. Well, you mustn't be ashamed of that."
"No," Mallows observed, assuming something of his ordinarily ponderous manner; "no, of course not. It's a little speculative deal. Everybody does it, and there's a deal of money going."
"Precisely. And since everybody does it, and there is so much money going, you are only making your share."
"Of course." Mr. Mallows was almost pompous by now.
"Of course." Dorrington coughed slightly. "Well now, do you know, I am exactly the same sort of man as yourself -- if you don't mind the comparison. I am disposed for a little side butter, so to speak -- a little speculation outside my regular business. I also am not ashamed of it. And since everybody does it, and there is so much money going -- why, I am thinking of making my share. So that we are evidently a pair, and naturally intended for each other!"
Mr. Paul Mallows here looked a little doubtful.
"See here, now," Dorrington proceeded. "I have lately taken it into my head to operate a little on the cycle share market. That was why I came round myself about that little spoke affair, instead of sending an assistant. I wanted to know somebody who understood the cycle trade, from whom I might get tips. Yon see I'm perfectly frank with you. Well, I have succeeded uncommonly well. And I want you to understand that I have gone every step of the way by fair work. I took nothing for granted, and I played the game fairly. When you asked me (as you had anxious reason to ask) if I had found anything, I told you there was nothing very big -- and see what a little thing the thread was! Before I came away from the pavilion I made sure that you were really the only man there with black court plaster on his fingers. I had noticed the hands of every man but two, and I made all excuse of borrowing something, to see those. I saw your thin presence of suspecting the betting men, and I played up to it. I have had a telegraphic report on your Exeter works this morning -- a deserted cloth mills with nothing on it of yours but a sign-board, and only a deposit of rent paid. There they referred to the works here. Here they referred to the works there. It was very clever, really! Also I have had a telegraphic report of your make-up adventure this morning. Clarkson does it marvellously, doesn't he? And, by the way, that telegram bringing you down to Birmingham was not from your confederate here, as perhaps you fancied. It was from me. Thanks for coming so promptly. I managed to get a quiet look round here just before you arrived, and on the whole the conclusion I come to as to the 'Avalanche Bicycle & Tyre Company, Limited,' is this: A clever man, whom it gives me great pleasure to know," with a bow to Mallows, "conceives the notion of offering the public the very rottenest cycle company ever planned, and all without appearing in it himself. He finds what little capital is required, his two or three confederates help to make up a board of directors, with one or two titled guinea-pigs, who know nothing of the company and care nothing, and the rest's easy. A professional racing man is employed to win races and make records, on machines which have been specially made by another firm (perhaps