They passed indoors and refreshed themselves with the appetisers declined by the Colonel.
As they passed in, Alan, timing things to a nicety, passed out. He pounded down the road in the wake of the Colonel, uttering subdued cries.
“Hullo?” said the Colonel, stopping. “What’s the matter, Spence?”
Alan pounded up, very red and breathless. “I’ve got him!” he announced. “He’s—oof!—locked in the celler—oof! I say, are you going to arrest him?”
An unholy smile appeared on the Colonel’s face. “Is it a nice cellar, Spence?” he asked gently.
“No, a bit damp, you know; so near the river. My sister says it was flooded last month.”
“But not now?” said the Colonel, with regret. “Never mind; it’ll do. No, I’m not going to arrest him now. I’ll come back and see him later in the day. In the meantime—well, I think he might stay there, don’t you?”
Alan grinned. “I won’t let him out. But he’ll make a hell of a noise, won’t he?”
“I doubt it. But if he does, you can tell your brother-in-law that I’ve taken the liberty of borrowing his cellar for a few hours, and I should be obliged if he would consider it commandeered for that time in the name of the law. It’s quite illegal, but I fancy he won’t mind.”
“Right-ho, I’ll tell him. I say, here’s the key.”