The Irishman rose to his feet, pushed back his chair, and taking a briarwood from his pocket and a small bag of tobacco proceeded to fill his pipe.
Mac broke the silence first:
"Case of wrong house, wasn't it? I wonder Catnall didn't find it out before dinner was over."
"Put Arbuckle in a bad hole," remarked Boggs. "What excuse could he make when he returned the money?"
"I'd have given that butler a dressing down," muttered Lonnegan. "He ought to have known that there was some mistake when the note arrived," Lonnegan like Mac was born without the slightest sense of humor, Boggs always maintained.
"Keep on guessing, gentlemen," exclaimed Murphy; "London guessed for a week, and gave it up."
"Well, but is that all?" asked Stirling.
"Every word and line. Nobody knows to this day who they were or where they came from. The flunkey on the curb said they arrived in a four-wheeler; that he had whistled to the rank at the end of the square for a hansom, and that they both stepped in and drove off."
"And old Arbuckle still bags the money?" inquired Boggs.