“So I could.”
By this time they had forgotten about the river, or taking gas. The duke had already become a real person in their lives and they talked on, devising stunts for his Vivacious Greatness. By this time, too, the monocle-man seemed to them a real benefactor.
Meanwhile the “real benefactor” had been reading from that stenographic report to Dan and the others. The commodore nearly jumped out of his boots for joy.
“Read that again,” he said.
The monocle-man, reading: “‘This ain’t half bad enough. You think up something now, Gee-gee.’
“‘Doping a poor little thing is always good stuff to spring on a jury, Gid-up. And you could make yourself up young with your hair done up in a pigtail, with a cute little baby-blue bow on the end.’
“‘But that sounds old, Gee-gee. You can sure invent something new—’” etc., etc.
The monocle-man finished reading and laid down the paper. “There you are, gentlemen,” he observed in a lively tone. “The stenographers will swear to that. They were dressed as house-maids, but at night and on certain occasions, they used one of the rooms Mrs. Ralston placed at my disposal as an office. When I came down here I didn’t expect to be involved in a domestic drama. It rather forced itself upon me. It came as part of the day’s work. I overheard your conversation with Miss Dolly that night.” Significantly to Bob. That young gentleman flushed.
“I have taken the liberty of destroying the report of that conversation, I may add. Miss Dolly is charming.” With a smile. “I, also, had a record of your conversation with these three gentlemen”—indicating Dan, Clarence and Dickie—“after they entered your room one night, via the trellis and the window. That conversation introduced me into the domestic drama. I became an actor in it whether I would or not. But for my whispered instructions to one of my assistants in the garden, you three gentlemen would have been arrested.” Dan stared at Clarence in momentary consternation. “You did not need the golf-club because my man removed the dog.”
“It seems,” said Dan effusively to the monocle-man, “you have been our good angel. If any remuneration—?”