“Dear me, yes, a very bad lot.”
The conversation began to flag, and the first hour passed slowly away. Two more glasses were ordered, and two cigars, and the watchers shifted their seats and prepared themselves for a long sitting.
“You’ve seen a goodish bit in your time, Wrench?”
“Yes; and so have you, I expect?”
“Certainly; but the life of chaps like us is very different, I should imagine, in the States to what it is in this country. You see, there is such an extent of territory, and it would puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer to tell which way your man has taken. But, mind you, your London thief is a match for all the world in cunning—he hasn’t any equal, I should say.”
“None whatever,” returned Wrench, puffing blue wreaths of smoke from his cigar.
“Your man don’t make his appearance as yet.”
“No; and it’s precious tedious, this waiting. But don’t you stop unless you like.”
“Ah, but I do like. I don’t find it tedious. We are all right here, in a snug room quite to ourselves. Did I ever tell you of a midnight adventure I had in the new country?”
“No, I don’t know that you ever did. Let’s have it. Anyway, it will break the monotony of the evening.”