Even this Bobbie promised, and Julius took a reluctant leave.
“I’ll be on hand if he’s troublesome,” he said from the doorway. “Now, no larks, uncle!”
“Uncle” mutely promised.
The portal closed, Bobbie went softly and listened. For a few seconds he waited, and then jerked open the door. Julius was stooping to lace his shoes. A less inquisitive man might have been suspected of having his ear to the keyhole.
“Want me?” he asked with a blameless smile.
“No,” said Bobbie, so emphatically that Mr. Superbus could not mistake his meaning. The door closed again.
“Gordon, what on earth——?”
Gordon threw out despairing arms.
“Bobbie, I’m in a hell of a mess,” he said, his tone one of anguish beyond remedy.
“What has happened—what does it mean?” asked the bewildered Bobbie. “Why didn’t you get in touch with me before?”