“We sent him.”
“Oh, you did?”
“Yes. He came back and reported you were here. We didn’t think it best to come around in a bunch just then. I’m the first one to show up this morning, ain’t I? Well, doesn’t that indicate that I take some interest?”
“Oh, yes,” mocked Mike, as he buttoned his collar and began knotting his necktie. “I expect you were so terribly disturbed over me that you didn’t sleep a wink.”
“Well, I didn’t sleep much,” confessed Wolfe. “I haven’t been doing much sleeping for the past two or three weeks. I’m getting thin, and I feel like a leftover jag the most of the time.”
“Don’t tell me how you feel. I’ve got a bump as big as a lemon here on my coconut. My head aches. My neck is stiff. My back is lame, and every breath I exhale smells of smoke. All on your account, too. And you come around here and growl! You make me sick. Get out of my way! Sit down!”
Lynch thrust his companion on a chair just as the door opened and other visitors appeared.
CHAPTER XXI.
FURTHER PLOTTING.
Duncan Ditson was the first to speak.
“Hello, you here, Wolfe?” he said. “We wondered where you were.”