“Run—first cab! Don’t lose a moment.”
A quarter of an hour later, just as Dick and his wife were about to leave the dining-room, there was a sharp knock at the door, followed by the trampling of feet in the hall, and Union Jack’s voice heard in protestation—
“I tell you he’s at dinner, and won’t be disturbed. Master always gives strict orders that—”
“Tell your master that Mr Maximilian Shingle insists upon seeing him on business.”
“Does he?” said Dick sharply. And he stood at the door, looking at his brother, and flourishing a dinner napkin about, as his eyes lighted upon his two companions; while a nervous feeling akin to alarm came upon him, for he saw that they were two well-dressed, keen-looking men.
“They’re mad doctors—both of ’em,” thought Dick, “and they’re going to listen to what I say, sign certificates, and have me dragged away. They’ll have a tough job of it if they do, though,” he muttered. “Yes, and there’s the carriage just come up that’s to take me off,” he continued, as there was the noise of wheels stopping at the door. “Don’t open that door, John,” he cried aloud.
But he was too late; for the boy had opened the door on the instant, and before he could shut it, Hopper, closely followed by Tom, entered the hall.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Dick, nodding, and feeling relieved.
“Hey? Yes, it’s me,” said Hopper quietly. “We thought we’d just drop in.”
“Well, then, Mr Max Shingle, perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell me what you want, disturbing me at my dinner?” said Dick sharply.