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McEachern, walking in the village, had happened upon an old New York acquaintance of his, who, touring England, had reached Dreever and was anxious to see the historic castle. Mr. McEachern had brought him thither, introduced him to Sir Thomas, and now Mr. Samuel Galer was occupying a room on the same floor as Jimmy's.
"I came by invitation, and in passing, not on all fours. Mr. McEachern, may I ask one question?" "What is ut?" "If you didn't want me, why did you let me stop here?" The policeman stopped as if he had received a blow. There came flooding back into his mind the recollection of his position. In his wrath, he had forgotten that Jimmy knew his secret.
"Of New York, according to you. Personally, I should think that he's seen about as much of New York as I have of Timbuctoo. Look here, McEachern, we've known each other some time, and I ask you, as man to man, do you think it playing the game to set a farmer like poor old Galer to watch me? I put it to you?" The policeman stammered.
I wasn't sure was dis your room. Say, who do you t'ink I nearly bumped me coco ag'inst out in de corridor downstairs? Why, old man McEachern, de cop. Dat's right!" "Yes?" "Sure. Say, what's he doin' on dis beat? I pretty near went down an' out when I seen him. Dat's right. Me breath ain't got back home yet." "Did he recognize you?" "Did he!
He turned to the big man, and held out his hand. "I don't suppose you remember me, Mr. McEachern? We met in New York." "You remember the night Mr. Pitt scared away our burglar, father," said Molly. Mr. McEachern was momentarily silent. On his native asphalt, there are few situations capable of throwing the New York policeman off his balance.
This would be his only chance of a smoke for hours, and the billiard-room was the best place for it. He sat down, and lighted a cigarette, casting about the while for an innocuous topic of conversation. "Like the show?" he inquired. "Fine," said Mr. McEachern. "By the way " Spennie groaned inwardly.
John McEachern, Captain of Police, was seated in the parlor of his up-town villa, reading. He was a man built on a large scale. Everything about him was large his hands, his feet, his shoulders, his chest, and particularly his jaw, which even in his moments of calm was aggressive, and which stood out, when anything happened to ruffle him, like the ram of a battle-ship.
As he two-stepped down the room, the lines of agony on his face were softened. He even smiled. As for Spennie, the brilliance of his happy grin dazzled all beholders. He was still wearing it when he invaded the solitude of Mr. McEachern. In every dance, however greatly he may be enjoying it, there comes a time when a man needs a meditative cigarette apart from the throng.
But a man can pick up strange people in London." "Pat, you're perfectly awful. I believe you suspect every one you meet. What do you suspect me of, I wonder?" "That's easy answered," said McEachern. "Robbery from the person." "What have I stolen?" "Me heart, me dear," replied McEachern gallantly, with a vast grin. "After that," said his wife, "I think I had better go.
McEachern was staring horribly at Jimmy, who had risen to his feet. "How do you do, Mr. McEachern?" The ex-policeman continued to stare. "Father," said Molly in distress. "Father, let me present I mean, don't you remember Jimmy? You must remember Jimmy, father! Jimmy Pitt, whom you used to know in New York."
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