"No, miss," replied Cargan. "That's a joking story some newspaper guy wrote up. It ain't got no more truth in it than most newspaper yarn. No, I ain't no Napoleon. There's lots of differences between us—one in particular." He raised his voice, and glared at the company around the table. "One in particular. The reformers got Napoleon at the end."
"But the end is not yet," suggested Mr. Magee, smiling.
Mr. Cargan gave him a sudden and interested look.
"I ain't worrying," he replied. "And don't you, young fellow."
Mr. Magee responded that he was not one to indulge in needless worry, and a silence fell upon the group. Peters entered with coffee, and was engaged in pouring it when Mr. Bland started up wildly from the table with an expression of alarm on his face.
"What's that?" he cried.
The others looked at him in wonder.
"I heard steps up-stairs," he declared.
"Nonsense," said Mr. Cargan, "you're dreaming. This peace and quiet has got to you, Bland."
Without replying, Mr. Bland rose and ran up the stair. In his absence the Hermit of Baldpate spoke into Magee's ear.