And now, dash it, the day had come and I knew that she was right! For I was sorry, by Jove!
CHAPTER XXIII
A MESSAGE AND A WARNING
"It's all right, miss," Wilkes reported; "at least, I hope so. Perkins is with him—we've been trying to persuade him to have a bath and lie down. But I don't know—"
He shook his head gloomily, then turned to me.
"If you will come with me, sir—" Then he added, and it seemed a question: "You must have made a quick run, sir. Seems like only a few minutes since we got Mr. Jack's 'phone message." His voice dropped: "From the station house, you know."
"Eh—what's that?" I paused with my foot on the first tread of the stairway. "Jack's 'phone message—from the station house?" I repeated blankly. "What are you talking about?"
Wilkes coughed reproachfully. "Why, you know, sir, he told about being arrested in front of the Kahoka Apartments. He mentioned that it was about—h'm!" He stole a furtive backward glance at the frump, but she was enjoying herself berating a fat girl she addressed as "Flora." He looked at me eloquently and whispered: "About his—h'm—stealing some black silk pajamas."
My monocle dropped, and I almost did myself.