That underneath all these splendid sheathings the man had the mean spirit of a deceiver and a robber never entered the young man’s head.
But presently things began to happen with such avalanching rapidity of action that there was not even a second to spare for speculation upon the vast gap between their social positions.
The lights had hardly been switched on before the big fellow put the sharp query to his companion:
“Watkins, is this room just as you left it when you went away with Mr. Gladwin?”
“I don’t know, sir,” replied Watkins, with characteristic deference of tone. “Bateato, the Jap, closed the house.”
“H’m,” said the other, laying his cane and hat on a table and drawing from the pocket of his light overcoat a blue print diagram of the house. Casting his eyes about the room, he unfolded the diagram and pointed to it, nodding his head behind him for Watkins to come and look.
“We’re in this room now,” he said, easily.
“Yes, sir.”
“Out that way is the corridor to the kitchen.”
He pointed to the panel-like door which a few minutes before had swallowed the very much undressed Officer 666.