Evan shrugged. "What's the nature of it?"
"It's a would-be humorous account of the events in that little street down-town."
"Is it a true story?"
Young Deaves turned to his elder. "Is it true, Papa?"
"In a way it's true," was the snarling reply. "From a certain point of view. But it's blackguardly just the same."
Evan stroked his lip to hide a smile. "What makes you think I wrote it?" he asked.
"Nobody else could have known all the circumstances."
"But we were watched and followed every step of the way."
"So you say."
"Why, you're surrounded by spies. I expect every servant in the house is in the pay of this gang. I hadn't been in the house half an hour before they approached me."