"Certainly, that is my opinion."
Dyke Darrel drew out a cigar and lit it, his friend refusing to take one.
"I can't feel so sanguine as you seem to, Harper. Will you go on?"
"I shall go to Chicago."
"You do not care to remain with me longer?"
Dyke Darrel regarded his friend closely through a cloud of smoke.
"You forget that I left urgent business to keep you company last night," answered Mr. Elliston, a tinge of rebuke in his voice.
"I do not. You have my hearty thanks for your disinterested kindness, Harper," returned Dyke Darrel. "If the delay has cost you anything—-"
"See here, old chum, don't insult me," cried Elliston, as the detective drew out a well-filled wallet. "I am able and willing to pay my own bills, I hope."
"Certainly. I meant no offense."