He was returning to them from the door he had unlocked and left slightly ajar.
“Well, we are—You know what,” smiled the ready detective, advancing half-way to greet him. “We’re not members of the Associated Brotherhood, but possibly have hopes of being so. At all events, we should like to talk the matter over, if, as you say, it’s not too late.”
“I have nothing to do with the club—”
“But you spoke before it.”
“Yes.”
“Then you can give us some sort of an idea how we are to apply for membership.”
Mr. Dunn met the concentrated gaze of his two evidently unwelcome visitors with a frankness which dashed George’s confidence in himself, but made little visible impression upon his daring companion.
“I should rather see you at another time,” said he. “But—” his hesitation was inappreciable save to the nicest ear—“if you will allow me to be brief, I will tell you what I know—which is very little.”
Sweetwater was greatly taken aback. All he had looked for, as he was careful to tell my husband later, was a sufficiently prolonged conversation to enable George to mark and study the workings of the face he was not yet sure of. Nor did the detective feel quite easy at the readiness of his reception; nor any too well pleased to accept the invitation which this man now gave them to enter his room.
But he suffered no betrayal of his misgivings to escape him, though he was careful to intimate to George, as they waited in the doorway for the other to light up, that he should not be displeased at his refusal to accompany him further in this adventure, and even advised him to remain in the hall till he received his summons to enter.