Tommy fidgeted, saying:
"Have a care, gezabo, or you'll be sending us to the rock pile!"
"My friend is cut-upping," Monsieur beamed on the official, but met with no more hearty response than the dry acquiescence:
"I've no doubt of it. But suppose you tell me more of your other friend—the counterfeiter!"
"Friend? My friend?" Monsieur's face now became the picture of horror. "I was telling these boys of one who disappeared years ago, and afterwards the police showed me some plates found in his rooms! My friend!"
Hardwick began to laugh.
"Please accept my apologies, but, really, for the moment——"
"Don't mention it," Tommy interrupted him, handing across a newly opened box of cigars. "I understand you—the professor couldn't!"
Returning to the important subject, Hardwick said:
"Whoever put these out is probably in Cuba. You got them at the café——?"