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Updated: May 13, 2025
The detective looked over his shoulder. McEachern glared dumbly. This was the crowning blow, that there should be spectators of his predicament. Jimmy strolled into the room. "Dreever told me you were in here," he said to McEachern. "Can you spare me a Hullo!" The detective had pocketed his revolver at the first sound of the handle.
Instruct him to stay at the village inn in character of American seeing sights of England, and anxious to inspect Dreever Castle. I will meet him in the village and recognize him as old New York friend, and will then give him further instructions. Yours faithfully, J. McEACHERN. P. S. Kindly not send a rube, but a real smart man. This brief, but pregnant letter cost some pains in its composition.
"Hadn't you better get out of here, don't you think?" he said, curtly. Without a word, McEachern walked to the door, and went out. Jimmy dropped into a chair with a deep breath. He took up his cigarette-case, but before he could light a match the gong sounded from the distance. He rose, and laughed rather shakily. He felt limp.
"As an effort at conciliating papa," he said, "I'm afraid that wasn't much of a success." It was not often that McEachern was visited by ideas. He ran rather to muscle than to brain. But he had one that evening during dinner. His interview with Jimmy had left him furious, but baffled. He knew that his hands were tied. Frontal attack was useless.
McEachern some pains to learn this lesson, but he had done it; and he proceeded on the present occasion to conduct himself high and disposedly, according to instructions from headquarters. The surprise of finding an old acquaintance in this company rendered him dumb for a brief space, during which Jimmy looked after the conversation. "How do you do, Mr. McEachern?" inquired Jimmy genially.
Look at dis old McEachern. Money to boin a wet dog wit', he's got, and never a bit of woik for it from de start to de finish. An' look at me, Mr. Chames." "I do, Spike, I do." "Look at me. Getting busy all de year round, woiking to beat de band all " "In prisons oft," said Jimmy. "Dat's right. And chased all roun' de town. And den what? Why, to de bad at de end of it all.
There was more scope for a man of parts. Things moved more rapidly. The world seemed full of philanthropists, anxious to "dress his front" and do him other little kindnesses. Mr. McEachern was no churl. He let them dress his front. He accepted the little kindnesses. Presently, he found that he had fifteen thousand dollars to spare for any small flutter that might take his fancy.
"That," said Jimmy, with sympathetic friendliness, "if you will allow me to say so, is the cardinal mistake you detectives make. You never do think." "It never occurred to me " The detective looked uneasily at Mr. McEachern.
"What does this mean?" he shouted. "What the ?" "Less noise," said the detective, sharply. "Get back!" he snapped, as the other took a step forward. "Do you know who I am?" thundered McEachern. "No," said the detective. "And that's just why you're wearing those bracelets. Come, now, don't be a fool. The game's up. Can't you see that?" McEachern leaned helplessly against the billiard-table.
He was not too pleased at the interruption. He was thinking, and he wanted to be alone. Something appeared to have disturbed Spike. His bearing was excited. "Say, boss! Guess what. You know dat guy dat come dis afternoon de guy from de village, dat came wit' old man McEachern?" "Galer?" said Jimmy. "What about him?" There had been an addition to the guests at the castle that afternoon. Mr.
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