pretty woman like that doesn’t want to go about in last season’s goods. Cards too, the poor little thing’s been mighty unlucky at cards. Why, she lost fifty to me last night.”
“She won two hundred from Jimmy Faulkener the night before,” said Tommy drily.
“Did she indeed? That relieves my mind some. By the way, there seems to be a lot of dud notes floating around in your country just now. I paid in a bunch at my bank this morning, and twenty-five of them were down and outers, so the polite gentleman behind the counter informed me.”
“That’s rather a large proportion. Were they new looking?”
“New and crisp as they make ’em. Why, they were the ones Mrs. Laidlaw paid over to me, I reckon. Wonder where she got ’em from. One of these toughs on the race course as likely as not.”
“Yes,” said Tommy. “Very likely.”
“You know, Mr. Beresford, I’m new to this sort of high life. All these swell dames, and the rest of the outfit. Only made my pile a short while back. Came right over to Yurrop to see life.”
Tommy nodded. He made a mental note to the effect that with the aid of Marguerite Laidlaw, Mr. Ryder would probably see a good deal of life and that the price charged would be heavy.
Meantime, for the second time, he had evidenced that the forged notes were being distributed pretty near at hand, and that in all probability Marguerite Laidlaw had a hand in their distribution.
On the following night he himself was given a proof.
It was at that small select meeting place mentioned by Inspector Marriot. There was dancing there, but the real attraction of the place lay behind a