It struck them afterwards that this was their flagrant, initial
mistake. They ought to have controlled their impatience and waited for
a more opportune occasion.
And they would have waited, but for the fact that Mr. Hopkins, a person
of dubious motives and antecedents, had insinuated himself into the
deputation not without a purpose of his own. This gentlemen insisted
that delay was fatal. Mr. Keith, he argued, would understand their
impatience. The millionaire was sailing in a day or two. One might
never get that cheque cashed, or even signed, before he left Nepenthe.
And then? Why, then the scheme might fall through and--he added to
himself--how was he going to get his share of the plunder?
The others, the respectable ones, gave way. Vainly they remonstrated.
Vainly they pointed out that old Koppen was not a man to go back on his
word; that a cheque could be made out in America as well as anywhere
else; that the crux of the question was not the millionaire but his
good friend Keith; that they might spoil all their chances by
approaching the latter at such an unseasonable hour of the day.
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