“You are a bit astonishing, Mr Pollard,” Wise said. “But I accept your invitation and I will go at once to you. Will you stay there till I come.”
“Certainly. When I perceive the game is up, what else is there for me to do? Moreover, would I call you up and surrender, if I were not sincere about it?”
“I can’t see why you should. At your hotel, then? All right.”
“Heavens, Zizi, what a man! I’ll start right off. You call Prescott, and tell him just what Pollard said, and tell him to go to the hotel with two policemen—or enough to take the prisoner.”
Wise went and Zizi did as he had bade her.
“What?” Prescott cried, over the wire, “you don’t say so! Well, wonders will never cease! I don’t altogether believe in it, but I’ll hurry to the hotel.”
Then Zizi herself hurried to the hotel, more excited than ever.
She calmed herself a little on the way, for she knew she must be cool and collected to take her part in the scene.
She reached the hotel a moment or two before Prescott got there.
But he came, as she waited, and, seeing her, exclaimed, “Are you sure? Where’s Mr Wise?”