Mr. Wontner briefly. 'I think I handed each of them something first, but they roped my arms and legs.'
'And did they photograph you in the sack?'
'Good Heavens, no!' Mr. Wontner shuddered.
'That's lucky. Awful thing to live down—a photograph, isn't it?' said Stalky to me as we reached the landing. 'I'm thinking of the newspapers, of course.'
'Oh, but you can easily have sketches in the illustrated papers from accounts supplied by eyewitnesses,' I said.
Mr. Wontner turned him round. It was the first time he had honoured me by his notice since our talk in the garage.
'Ah,' said he, 'do you pretend to any special knowledge in these matters?'
'I'm a journalist by profession,' I answered simply but nobly. 'As soon as you're at liberty, I'd like to have your account of the affair.'
Now I thought he would have loved me for this, but he only replied in an uncomfortable, uncoming-on voice, 'Oh, you would, would you?'
'Not if it's any trouble, of course,' I said. 'I can always get their version from the defendants. Do either of 'em draw or sketch at all, Mr. Wontner? Or perhaps your father might'
Then he said quite hotly, 'I wish you to understand very clearly, my good man, that a gentleman's name can't be dragged through the gutter to bolster up the circulation of your wretched sheet, whatever it may be.'
'It is ' I named a journal of enormous
