“Excuse me,” said Mr. Billing. “I’ll just get my camera. A view of that house will be most interesting. I certainly ought to have it for my biography.”
He crossed the road to the hotel and picked up his camera. He carried it to the middle of the square and set up the tripod legs. Then he screwed the camera into its place.
“O’Grady,” said Major Kent, angrily. “I don’t want to make a public exposure of you before a total stranger, but if you don’t stop trying to make fools of us all———”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Major,” said the doctor. “I’m not making a fool of anyone. I’m helping to persuade Mr. Billing to erect a statue in this town. You can’t deny that a statue would be an improvement to the place.”
“A statue!” said the Major. “Who to?”
“Good Heavens!” said Dr. O’Grady, “haven’t you grasped that yet? To General John Regan.”
Mr. Billing had his head under a black cloth. He was screwing the lens of his camera backwards and forwards and appeared to be entirely absorbed in his photography.
“Tell me now, doctor,” said Doyle, “before we go further into the matter—— Mind you, I’m not saying a word against what you’re doing, but I’d be glad to know who was General John Regan.”
“If I’m to show the American gentleman the birthplace of the General,” said Gallagher, “I’ll need to know where it is. Will you tell me this now, doctor, where was the General born?”
“I haven’t time,” said Dr. O’Grady, “to give you all elementary lectures on modern history; and I certainly haven’t the temper to spend all day hammering into your heads simple facts which——”