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Bella checked him with a gesture. "Jim comes into money we have a good allowance now but it will be nearly two years before he gets possession. I want him to start fair when he may, perhaps, have learned a little sense, and not to find himself burdened with debts and associates he can't get rid of. At present, Batley's lending him money at exorbitant interest.
Better use your own methods in telling me what took place." Lisle did so, omitting any reference to Bella, and Nasmyth looked disturbed and disgusted. "Crestwick's as devoid of sense as he is of manners; he deserves to lose. What I can't get over is that fellow Batley's staying in what was once George Gladwyne's house, with Clarence standing sponsor for him." Lisle fancied he could understand.
She blamed herself bitterly in a half-dazed fashion, but it was only afterward she realized that she had not been troubled by any very poignant sense of loss. After a while Nasmyth said they would land, but Millicent roused herself to countermand his instructions and eventually they reached Batley's camp.
Marple was mollified, and he fell in with Batley's suggestion that they should try a game. In the meanwhile, Crestwick looked around at his companion as they went down the corridor. "I believe I owe you some thanks," he admitted. "I like the way you headed off Batley I think he meant to turn savage at first and I wouldn't have been willing to draw in Gladwyne, as you did.
It's unpleasant, but here the thing is, as I see it Batley's not the kind of man Clarence would willingly associate with, and to give Clarence his dues, all his instinct must make him recoil from the fellow's game with Crestwick. Considering that he's apparently making no protest against it, this is proof to me that Batley has some pretty firm hold on him." "What's Batley's profession?"
In the first place, you'd have some trouble in raising the money; in the second, I might be accused of playing Batley's game." "The last's ridiculous. But if I'm not to do anything, it brings me back to the question why am I staying here?" "I can't tell you that. I'll only suggest that if you hold out until you come into your property, you'll go back much more fit in several ways to look after it.
"I only got on at the last junction." Batley's tone was significant as he proceeded. "I was too late for your Allan boat; when I inquired about you in London I found that you had gone; but I caught the next New York Cunarder and came on by Buffalo. I suppose you stopped a day or two in Montreal, which explains how I've overtaken you." "We were held up by ice off Newfoundland."
What you need is sound judgment, the sense to recognize a good thing when you see it, pluck, and the sporting instinct you must be ready to back your opinion and take a risk. It's only the necessity for that kind of thing which makes it a fine game." He broke off, looking up, and as Lisle strolled forward with a glance at Crestwick, he saw Batley's genial expression change.
It was certain that a revelation of Batley's speculation would go a very long way toward establishing the truth of any damaging story Lisle thought fit to tell. Supposing the two by any chance combined their knowledge that he had raised money in anticipation of his cousin's death, and afterward left him to perish nothing that he could say would count against the inference.
Batley's face began to redden, and Lisle, looking around at the sound of a footstep, saw Marple standing a pace or two away. He was a fussy, bustling man, and he raised his hand in expostulation. "Was that last called for, or quite the thing, Lisle?" he asked. Batley turned to Gladwyne, as if for support, and the latter assumed his finest air.
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