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for ever, so I thought about settling down – buying a house, getting myself a wife, all that sort of thing. I suppose you wouldn’t have anything to suit me?’
    Mr Martin had a moment’s indecision. He didn’t know that he wanted to have anything to do with a business deal that had got Fred mixed up with it. He might have made money – though it would probably be better not to ask how – and he might have a fancy to settle down and get married and it would make his mother very happy if he did, but he didn’t know that he wanted anything to do with it. He said in a noncommittal manner,
    ‘Oh, well, you could look about a bit. But those small houses are fetching big prices nowadays, and the smaller they are the more they fetch, so to speak.’
    Fred Worple laughed.
    ‘Oh, I’m not set on anything as small as all that. Four or five bedrooms and a couple of sitting-rooms and a nice piece of garden – that’s about the ticket. Used to be plenty of them knocking about in Grove Hill. Mum tells me you’ve moved right up on the top yourself – Hillcrest Road, isn’t it? Nice and breezy up there. How would you like to have me for a neighbour?’
    Mr Martin wouldn’t like it at all. He kept his tongue quiet, but his face spoke plainly enough. There was nothing he would like less than to have a shady stepbrother round the corner.
    Mr Worple had a hearty laugh at his expression.
    ‘Not respectable enough for you? You just wait and see! Now what about one of those houses in Belview Road – nice gardens at the back they had. I’m a whale at gardening – you’d be surprised! Someone told me the corner house was going.’
    ‘Who told you that?’
    ‘Oh, just someone. I walked by and had a look at it from the road, but there isn’t any board up.’
    ‘Well, there’s someone after it, but the people don’t want to sell.’
    Fred Worple whistled.
    ‘What are they asking?’
    ‘They don’t want to sell.’
    ‘Holding out for a bigger price?’
    Mr Martin raised his eyebrows.
    ‘They have had a very good offer, but they won’t sell.’
    ‘Like to tell me what the offer was?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Would it be three thousand – four – five – six – you don’t mean to say they’ve said no to seven!’
    During the little pause after each of the figures he kept those sharp, rather near-set eyes of his watchfully fixed upon his stepbrother’s face. When he reached the final sum, Mr Martin said firmly,
    ‘I don’t mean to say anything at all.’
    ‘No, but look here, Bert, it’s absurd. Why on earth would anyone be landing out seven thousand for a house like that? You’re having me on. And as if anyone would refuse! They’d be crackers if they did! Now look here, if you’re not telling me what this other chap has offered you’re not. All I’ve got to say is, whatever it is I’ll go a hundred pounds better. Now what about it?’
    Mr Martin looked at him attentively. He hadn’t been drinking, and he appeared to be in earnest. He spoke lightly – well, that had always been Fred’s way, but the hand on his knee was clenched and the knuckles white. Fred was up to something, and whatever it was, the respectable firm of Martin and Steadman wasn’t going to mix or meddle with it. He said so.
    ‘Look here, Fred, I don’t know what you’re driving at, and I don’t want to. I can’t have two clients bidding against each other for the same house and one of them a family connexion. It’s not the way we do business.’ He didn’t get any farther than that, because Fred had burst out laughing.
    ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on! I just thought I’d give the old firm a chance, that’s all. Jones down the street will do the job for me if I really want it done.’ He pushed back his chair and got up. ‘Well, it’s been nice seeing you, Bert. You’ll like having me just round the corner, won’t you? So long!’ He went out whistling.
    Mr Worple walked down the High Street. It hadn’t really