"But you can't lose a minute."
"Oh, yes, I can—two or three. Time for a smoke, and then I'll write you a first-column article that'll call for the biggest caps you have in stock."
"But I— What the— Say, you know something!"
"I know that the secret service has been organised, I know the organisers, and I know the password."
Here Marchmont's chief became unquotable, lapsing into unlimited profanity from sheer joy and exultation.
"I'll give you a rise if you pull this off!" he exclaimed, after hearing the recital of the events at the club. "May I be"—several things—"if I don't! Now what are you going to do about it?"
"Suppose we inform the nearest police station, have the crowd arrested, and take all the glory ourselves."
"Suppose we shut up shop and take a holiday," suggested the chief, with a wealth of scorn.
"Well, what have you to propose?"
"We must work the whole thing through our detective agency."