"Come, miss," urged the man, "I've paid you a compliment. You ain't a-going to let me lose my bet?"
Cad paid no attention to the fellow, and his companions jeered. One said:
"She daren't raise her veil, or she'll make you lose, sure."
The man who had bet exclaimed:
"You've lost; I've got a bottle on you."
"Not yet; come, miss, you won't see me lose."
All this time the two detectives had sat silent. They knew what would follow, and just when to come in with the sledge hammer part of the farce. Yes, they were ready in good time to play the anvil chorus on the heads of the lively gang of insulters. It was just their pie, as the slang phrase has it.
"You've lost," cried the better.
"Come, come, miss, do you hear what he says? I know you're a beaut. Raise your veil and give me the laugh on him."
Cad sat mute, and finally the man said: