A large person in the front rank grinned.
George, realising that the time had come for action, took the large person by the shoulder and walked him down the road. The large person allowed George to do so with the greatest amiability. Then George went back for his companion, and the large person strolled back, still with the greatest amiability, to his place. Another large person in the second rank guffawed.
At this point George gave the crowd up as hopeless and walked with dignity into the house again. The crowd watched his retreating back with stolid interest. It was not an exacting crowd, and George’s back would furnish it with food for reflection for at least half an hour. In the meantime Guy and Mr. Doyle had been comparing notes.
“Why didn’t you come back last night?” Guy was asking as George entered the room with a slightly baffled air. Fortunately the others were far too interested in the matter in hand to pay the slightest attention to him.
“My dear chap, I couldn’t. We didn’t get rid of that Inspector till nearly three o’clock, and all the time I was terrified that he’d somehow find out that Dora was in the house. I was only just able to nip into the library in front of him and warn George not to mention her. It was jolly lucky we’d made her go to bed, according to plan. I whispered to her through the key-hole to lie low, while George was getting more whisky out for the Inspector in the library. Anyhow, there’s one thing. The Inspector loves me like a brother. It was I who put the idea of whisky into George’s head, wasn’t it, George?”
“You were chatting a good deal about it,” George admitted.
Guy began to steal jam with silent gusto. “You know,” he said after a minute or two, “I feel rather guilty about that dear old Inspector. He’s almost too easy.”
“Yes. I never imagined the official police could be hoodwinked quite so simply. But don’t you worry about him. He’s having the time of his life. He wouldn’t have missed this for worlds. For two solid hours by the clock last night he was telling us about his other murder case. I suggested half a dozen times as tactfully as possible that he’d better go out and do a bit of detecting, but nothing happened.”
“But I say, Pat, he can’t be a complete old ass,” George pointed out. “He solved that murder all right apparently, and it seems to have been a bit of a mystery.”
“That’s as may be,” said Mr. Doyle, who had not listened for two hours without gaining some suspicion of the truth. “By the way, I hope we hear from Laura to-day; and I hope also that she’s dutifully watching the gentleman’s reactions. We mustn’t lose sight of our primary experiment in all this excitement about the second one. Don’t you think——”