“You don’t know what you’re up against, Jimmy,” he said. “You’re
half a century behind the times. You have an idea that all a burglar
needs is a mask, a blue chin, and a dark lantern. I tell you he
requires a highly specialized education. I’ve been talking to these
detective fellows, and I know. Now, take your case, you worm. Have
you a thorough knowledge of chemistry, physics, toxicology–”
“Sure.”
“–electricity and microscopy?”
“You have discovered my secret.”
“Can you use an oxy-acetylene blow-pipe?”
“I never travel without one.”
“What do you know about the administration of anaesthetics?”
“Practically everything. It is one of my favorite hobbies.”
“Can you make ‘soup’?”
“Soup?”
“Soup,” said Mr. Mifflin, firmly.
Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
“Does an architect make bricks?” he said. “I leave the rough
preliminary work to my corps of assistants. They make my soup.”
“You mustn’t think Jimmy’s one of your common yeggs,” said Sutton.
“He’s at the top of his profession. That’s how he made his money. I
never did believe that legacy story.”
“Jimmy,” said Mr. Mifflin, “couldn’t crack a child’s money-box.
Jimmy couldn’t open a sardine-tin.”
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.
“What’ll you bet?” he said again. “Come on, Arthur; you’re earning a
very good salary. What’ll you bet?”
“Make it a dinner for all present,” suggested Raikes, a canny person
who believed in turning the wayside happenings of life, when
possible, to his personal profit.
The suggestion was well received.
“All right,” said Mifflin. “How many of us are there? One, two,
three, four–Loser buys a dinner for twelve.”
“A good dinner,” interpolated Raikes, softly.
“A good dinner,” said Jimmy. “Very well. How long do you give me,
Arthur?”
“How long do you want?”
“There ought to be a time-limit,” said Raikes. “It seems to me that
a flyer like Jimmy ought to be able to manage it at short notice.
Why not tonight? Nice, fine night. If Jimmy doesn’t crack a crib
tonight, it’s up to him. That suit you, Jimmy?”
“Perfectly.”
Willett interposed. Willett had been endeavoring to drown his
sorrows all the evening, and the fact was a little noticeable in his
speech.
“See here,” he said, “how’s J-Jimmy going to prove he’s done it?”
“Personally, I can take his word,” said Mifflin.
“That be h-hanged for a tale. Wha-what’s to prevent him saying he’s
done it, whether he has or not?”
The Strollers looked uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it was Jimmy’s
affair.
“Why, you’d get your dinner in any case,” said Jimmy. “A dinner from
any host would smell as sweet.”
Willett persisted with muddled obstinacy.
“Thash–thash not point. It’s principle of thing. Have thish thing
square and ‘bove board, _I_ say. Thash what _I_ say.”
“And very creditable to you being able to say it,” said Jimmy,
cordially. “See if you can manage ‘Truly rural’.”
“What _I_ say is–this! Jimmy’s a fakir. And what I say is what’s
prevent him saying he’s done it when hasn’t done it?”
“That’ll be all right,” said Jimmy. “I’m going to bury a brass tube
with the Stars and Stripes in it under the carpet.”
Willett waved his hand.
“Thash quite sh’factory,” he said, with dignity. “Nothing more to
say.”
“Or a better idea,” said Jimmy. “I’ll carve a big J on the inside of
the front door. Then, anybody who likes can make inquiries next day.
Well, I’m off home. Glad it’s all settled. Anybody coming my way?”
“Yes,” said Arthur Mifflin. “We’ll walk. First nights always make me
as jumpy as a cat. If I don’t walk my legs off, I shan’t get to
sleep tonight at all.”
“If you think I’m going to help you walk your legs off, my lad,
you’re mistaken. I propose to stroll gently home, and go to bed.”
“Every little helps,” said Mifflin. “Come along.”
“You want to keep an eye on Jimmy, Arthur,” said Sutton. “He’ll
sand-bag you, and lift your watch as soon as look at you. I believe
he’s Arsene Lupin in disguise.”
CHAPTER II
PYRAMUS AND THISBE
The two men turned up the street. They walked in silence. Arthur
Mifflin was going over in his mind such outstanding events of the
evening as he remembered–the nervousness, the relief of finding