“So am I,” declared Chick, grinning, but with tremendous earnestness at the same time.
“I’ll scratch your name off the blotter,” went on the lieutenant.
“Thanks!” returned Chick dryly. “What was the charge against me? ‘Drunk, resisting an officer, and suspicious character,’ I suppose?”
“You’ve hit it exactly,” was the reply of the lieutenant. “But it will all be obliterated. I hope there are no hard feelings.”
“None on my part, now that I am out,” declared Chick.
To prove it, he shook hands all around, including Lieutenant Brockton and the desk lieutenant and doorkeeper. Then he went out to the taxi with his chief.
“I’m sorry all this happened, chief,” said Chick contritely, as the cab got under way. “But the officers wouldn’t listen to a word from me. They threatened to dust me with their clubs if I didn’t shut up. So, of course, I had to shut up.”
“The wisest thing to do under the circumstances,” answered Nick in an absent tone. “We will stay in the taxi even on the ferryboat, unless you feel that you must get out for the fresh air of the river.”
“I’ll do what you do, chief,” returned Chick. “How did the raid come out? You look worried. Was anything wrong about it?”
“Yes. Very much wrong.”