“You forget that constant association with you demands that I should frequently plug my two ears,” retorted Winter.
Furneaux would surely have thrown back the jest had not a knock on the door interrupted him.
“Who’s there? I’m busy,” cried Winter.
“Me-ow!” whined Peters’s voice.
“Oh, it’s you, Tom. Come in!”
The journalist crept in on tiptoe.
“Hush! We are not observed,” he said. “Wally Hart threatens to choke me if you two don’t dine with him and Grant to-night.”
There was silence for a little while. The detectives looked at each other.
“At what time?” said Winter, at last.
Peters was astonished, and showed it.