“Is this one?”
“It is not! Don’t believe a word I say just now. In fact, I’m so lit up with the beauties and glories of this place, that I hardly know what I am a-saying! Ain’t it the show-place, though!”
“Yes, it is. Looky here, youngster, can’t you go up and coax Mr. Stone to see me—just a few minutes?”
“Nope; can’t do that. But you spill it to me, and if it’s worth it, I’ll repeat it to him. I’m really along for that very purpose, you see.”
“But I haven’t anything special to tell him——”
“Oh, I see! Just want the glory and honor of chinning with the great Stone!”
As this so nearly expressed Burdon’s intention, he grinned sheepishly, and Fibsy understood.
“No go, old top,” he assured him. “F. Stone will send for you if he thinks you’ll interest him in the slightest degree. Better wait for the sending—it’ll mean a more satisfactory interview all round.”
“Well, then, let’s you and me chat a bit.”
“Oho, coming round to sort of like me, are you? Well, I’m willing. Tell me this: how far from the victim did the shooter stand?”