"Now what was his game, do you think?" Monty asked again.
"He was giving you a piece of wholesome advice," I answered promptly.
"But 'You stop adopting things; you might—ahem!—blow your fingers off.' He said it like that. I haven't put in the 'ahem.' That was his. It looks to me as if he knew about that pistol."
"It has very much that look," I agreed blandly.
"But how? I can't understand yet how Esdaile knew, but this Police Inspector——!"
"'Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive,'" I murmured. "You never can tell, Monty."
"Oh, stop burbling. How do you suppose he did know?"
"Let me see. You told Philip it was his keys that made your pocket bulge so, didn't you?"
"Oh—if you're just going to rot me——"
"I'm not rotting you. I've a feeling that if you'd told Inspector Webster the same thing he'd have been happy and delighted to believe you."