"I've plenty of ready money with me," volunteered Cecil, "and very fortunately a draft to my credit arrived to-day, which I've not yet cashed."
"Good!" said Spotts. "We're in luck. Give Tyb fifty."
Banborough whipped out a roll of bills and handed the desired amount to the tragedian without demur.
"Now, off you go," cried his brother actor, "and keep your wits about you."
Smith nodded and hailed a passing cab.
"Come," said Spotts to the author, "we've no time to lose."
"What's your plan?" asked Cecil as they swung round the corner and sighted the police station.
"Haven't got any as yet. We'll see how the land lies first. The Black Maria's still before the door. That's lucky!"
Sure enough, there it was, looking gloomily like an undertaker's wagon, minus the plate glass.
"Must be hot inside," commented the actor, directing a glance at the two little grated slits high up in the folding doors at the back, which apparently formed the only means of ventilation.