"And talk about the mines again, eh?" interrupted Mr. Rozier. "Stuff and nonsense! You might just as well say we're detectives and we're trying to find some grounds for arresting you."
"Well, what do you suggest?" asked the man, nettled at the speech and manner of the banker.
With the burden of the responsibility for the success or failure of their purpose thus shifted to his shoulders, Mr. Rozier thrummed on his desk, scowling.
"I should say the thing for you to do was to mingle with the crowd that's watching them, if there is any now, so that if they come out you can shadow them, that's the word you detectives use, isn't it? If they try to get away, stop them."
"How? We've no right to interfere with a man's movements unless we can make some specific charge against him. If we did, he'd have an action at law against us. They're not vagrants because they have money and if we should arrest them as suspicious characters what could we prove?"
"Could you get at them, or Howard at any rate, for wearing false whiskers?" inquired young Rozier.
"There's no law against that, of which I'm aware," qualified the man-hunter, "but you've given me an idea.
"We might hire some tough to pick a row with them and snatch off the beard."
"After the experience with young Consollas I fancy no one could get near enough to them," observed the banker.
"True," admitted the detective, reluctantly. Then his face brightened: