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He's some younger than the other, in the late twenties, I should judge, and has sort of a stern, haughty stare. "Why of course?" he demands. "Eh?" says I. "Why er well, you've got my note, ain't you, there in your hand?" "Ah!" says he. "Rather a clever deduction; eh, Tidman?" "I shouldn't say so," croaks the other. "Quite obvious, in fact. If it wasn't me it must be you."
"Not yet," says I. "I got my ear stretched, though." "Fancy!" remarks T. Waldo, turnin' to Tidman. Tidman stares at me disgusted, then hunches his shoulders and grunts, "Oh, well!" "And now," says Pettigrew, "it's nearly time for Epictetus." Sounded something like lunch to me, but I wasn't takin' any hints.
Pettigrew, "could you manage to make this young man understand that I don't care to be bothered with such rot?" Tidman didn't have a chance. "Excuse me," says I, flashin' Old Hickory's ten thousand dollar check, "but if there's anything overripe about that, just let me know. That's real money, that is. If you want it certified I'll "
I must say, it's kind of a draggy rush line they formed, Tidman havin' to be almost pushed, and Peters keepin' well in the rear. I finds myself leadin' the assault, with Waldo a bad second, but tellin' me which turns to make and urgin' Tidman to follow close. Sure enough, though, there on the laundry floor we discovers the victorious Mrs.
Must I call the police, or what?" "The police!" whispers Tidman, hoarse and husky. "But what else can I do?" demands Waldo. Then he turns to me. "I say, can you think of anything?" "Seems to me I'd have a look at the gent first," says I. "Mistakes sometimes happen, you know, in the best regulated basements. Might be just a man takin' the meters, or a plumber, or something like that."
"Epictetus," says Waldo, breakin' it to me as gentle as he can, "was a Greek philosopher. We are reading his 'Discourses." "Oh!" says I. "Not so close, was I? Now, what was his line of dope something like the Dooley stuff?" Waldo and Tidman swaps grins, sort of sly and sheepish, like they wasn't used to indulgin' in such frivolity.
"Quite secure, sir," says Peters. "Both hands in his hair and she sitting on his chest, sir." "But but this can't go on indefinitely," says Waldo. "I suppose something ought to be done about it." "I should suggest sending for the police, sir," says Peters. "Bother!" says Waldo. "That means my going to police court, and having the thing in the papers, and Why, Tidman, what's the matter?"
Tidman to inform him they will worship God and return thanks in his place to-morrow, if all be well. How wonderfully God has appeared for these people! My dear friend, when I first saw them in January all things appeared to be against them, but all has been overruled for good.
"As I have always contended," puts in Tidman, "the commercial mind is much over-rated. Its intelligence begins with the dollar sign and ends with a percentage fraction. In England, now, we " "Well, Peters?" breaks in T. Waldo, glancin' annoyed towards the double doors, where the butler is teeterin' back and forth on his toes.
"I I wouldn't get within a mile of her again for a fortune." Couldn't have been more'n ten minutes before the three of us Waldo, Tidman, and me was all grouped in the lib'ry again, just as though nothing had happened. "My hunch was right," says I. "He wasn't a burglar. Ask Tidman." Tidman backs me up hearty. "Then who the deuce was he," demands Waldo, "and what was he "
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