“Blow me tight! They’re testing you as much as me! I know nothin’ about it!”
“Well, put it this way: either we are fudging or we are not. Will that satisfy you, Doc.?”
“The way I’d put it,” said the little man, “would be—either you are pullin’ our blooming legs off or we’ve struck a sixty-horse-power, armour-plated spook of the very first quality. An’ faith, I wouldn’t put it past ye—ye vagabond!”
“Right-o!” I laughed. “Assume I’m fudging. What does it mean? You’ll admit I’ve been properly blindfolded?”
“We do,” said Matthews and Price together.
“I know I was,” grumbled the Doc., rubbing his eyes.
“Therefore it must have been memory work. D’you think you can remember the position of all the letters on the board without looking at them?”
“Sorra a wan!” said the Doctor.
“I believe I could,” said Matthews.
“Well, shut your eyes and try to push the glass to them,” I suggested.