“This is a pretty free country,” he said in his deliberate way, “and a man can peddle key-rings, even if he’s a member of the House of Lords. But one thing he mustn’t do, Mr. Broad, is to stick fire-arms under the noses of respectable policemen.”
Broad chuckled.
“I’m afraid I was a little rattled,” he said. “But the truth is, I’ve been waiting for the greater part of an hour, expecting somebody to come to my door, and when I heard your stealthy footsteps”—he shrugged—“it was a fool mistake for a grown man to make,” he said, “and I guess I’m feeling as badly about it as you would have me feel.”
The unwavering eyes of Mr. Elk did not leave his face.
“I won’t insult your intelligence by asking you if you were expecting a friend,” he said. “But I should like to know the name of the other guest.”
“So should I,” said the other, “and so would a whole lot of people.”
He reached out his hand to flick the ash from his cigar, looking at Elk thoughtfully the while.
“I was expecting a man who has every reason to be very much afraid of me,” he said. “His name is—well, it doesn’t matter, and I’ve only met him once in my life, and then I didn’t see his face.”
“And you beat him up?” suggested Elk.
The other man laughed.