Hogenauer-drank-strychnine — " said Charters dully. The telephone seemed to go dead, and I jiggled it. "Merrivale will take over," Charters added.
"How de do, Ken?" rumbled H.M.'s voice, casually.
"As to your part in this affair," I said, "I remain coldly silent. But in all fairness, have another inspiration! Think of some subtle means by which I can pull myself out of this. Can you do it?"
"Well… now," said the old man. I could picture him scratching the side of his jaw with one finger. "I been sittin' and thinkin' here in the last couple of minutes, and I believe I got it. Uh-huh, we can get you out of it-1'
"Yes?"
`The envelope is in the upper left-hand pigeon-hole in Keppel's desk at the Cabot Hotel, Bristol'," H.M. quoted. "Well, now, Ken," he said with an air of inspiration, "the only thing for you to do is to hurry on to Bristol and pinch that envelope before Keppel gets back. Hey?"
I stood back and studied the telephone. For sheer, consummate, unadulterated nerve; for nerve which sprang like a fountain at the stars and poured like a cataract into a voiceless pit; this proposal seemed to outmatch anything I had heard that night.
"Won't you be satisfied until I stay in jail?" I inquired. "Is it absolutely necessary for me to get twenty years in order to make you happy? What's the matter with you, anyway? H.M., I won't do it, and that's flat."
"I bet you do, though," said the old man gleefully. "You want to bet, hey? Listen, Ken. Dammit, don't carry on like that! You're goin' to do it of your own free will. Do you know who's at Charter's place, do you know who's standin' at my elbow talkin' to me this very minute? Well, I'll tell you. It's your light o' life, your petit morceau de fluff, your intended bride, Evelyn Cheyne…" "What?"
"Uh-huh. (Shut up, wench!)" He howled at someone behind him, and then turned back to the telephone. "How can I help it if she follows you? Am I to blame if she insists on chasm her true love? She got here not ten minutes after you'd left, walked in bright and breezy and beamin', and said she wasn't going to miss whatever fireworks were on display. Now, if you won't go to Bristol, she's offered to go herself; so I think you better go along and protect her. She takes awful chances, son…’