it went into his pocket and brought out his cigar case. Silently he handed it to the inspector, motioning him to help himself and to pass it to his man. Then he turned to Pawley again.
"Mr. Pawley!" he said in his most matter-of-fact tones. "It's very evident to me that you and I had better have a little conversation in strict privacy. Bickerdale!—where have you a spare room?"
Bickerdale turned to Weech, growling something that sounded more like a curse than an intimation. But Weech opened a door in the rear of the room, and revealed a lighted kitchen place, and Parslewe, motioning Pawley to follow him, went within. The door closed on them.
They were in that kitchen a good half-hour. As for those of us—five men—who were left in the sitting-room, we kept to our respective camps. Bickerdale and Weech, at their end of the place, hung together, eyeing us furtively, and occasionally whispering. Weech in particular looked venomous, and by that time I had come to the conclusion that he had bluffed Madrasia and myself very cleverly on
