"I am not going to take it at all," he said. "You will be good enough to put the police off my scent and have a cab handy so that I can get away without being seen. We have met before, sir."
It was a fitting crown to a day of surprises. For the man who stood before Jack was the same Nostalgo he had conveyed in the guise of a dead body to Shannon Street police station.
[CHAPTER XXV.]
ON THE TRACK.
The man standing there showed not the slightest trace of alarm. There was just the suggestion of a smile on his face, as if he felt confident of his position. Jack could even see that he was fingering a cigarette case, as if he were thinking more about tobacco than anything else. He advanced a little nearer to his pursuer, and the suggestion of a smile broadened to a look of absolute amusement.
"It seems to me that we have met before," he said, with an accent that left no doubt as to his nationality. "But I have just reminded you of the fact. The question is, what are you going to do?"
"Well, you are a very cool hand," Jack replied. "My obvious duty is to hand you over to the police for the attempted murder of Mr. Spencer Anstruther."
"Instead of which you are going to do nothing of the kind," the stranger replied. "Besides, you are quite wrong. I am prepared to admit the assault on Mr. Anstruther, but as to murdering him--nothing of the kind. Besides, you know perfectly well you are consumed with curiosity to know all about my mysterious self."
Jack smiled to himself despite the gravity of the situation. The stranger had hit off his thoughts exactly.
"You are naturally anxious to know," he said, "what happened to me after you were good enough to escort my unconscious body to Shannon Street police station. I see you are a little dubious as to whether I am the right man or not; but if you looked at me carefully, you would see there is no mistake whatever."