“I am sure, I hardly know how to express myself,” cried Peace, when the American detective had brought his narrative to a conclusion. “I don’t know when I have passed such an agreeable hour or two as I have with you two gentlemen, who have given me an insight into matters quite new to me.”
“‘Oh, Shearman can tell you a heap of good stories, and can keep anyone amused for hours,” remarked Cartridge. “I’m not in the race with him.”
“Oh, you are well matched,” returned Peace, forcing a smile, for by this time he had had more than enough of his two companions. “But I must now be off, as I have to meet the gentleman who goes partner with me in some of my inventions. He is a practical man, and is, therefore, able to carry out my ideas.”
“I’ll tell you what I’d do,” said Shearman.
“What?”
“Wal, I would lay the matter before the Admiralty. If you can raise ships by the means you propoee—and I don’t see why you should not—why, it will be worth thousands to them.”
“An excellent thought, sir. I’ll take your advice,” cried Peace, rising from his seat and putting on his hat.
His two companions followed his example, and they all descended the stairs and passed out of the front door of the house.
Peace hailed a cab; then, wishing the detectives a hearty farewell, jumped into the vehicle, which was driven off, at Peace’s request, in the direction of the Ludgate-circus.
“Got rid of ’em at last!” cried our hero, as the cab rattled along. “Gad, but this has been a dose. No more police-courts for me. Why, they’d jaw a horse’s hind leg off—and think themselves so jolly clever, too. I’ve had enough of them—quite enough for the present, at all events.”