The suggestion was well received.
“All right,” said Mifflin. “How many of us are there? One, two, three, four. Loser buys a dinner for twelve.”
“A good dinner,” interpolated Raikes softly.
“A good dinner,” said Jimmy. “Very well. How long do you give me, Arthur?”
“How long do you want?”
“There ought to be a time limit,” said Raikes. “It seems to me that an expert like Jimmy ought to be able to manage it at short notice. Why not to-night? Nice, fine night. If Jimmy doesn’t crack a crib to-night, it’s up to him. That suit you, Jimmy?”
“Perfectly.”
Willett interposed. Willett had been endeavouring to drown his sorrows all the evening, and the fact was a little noticeable in his speech.
“See here,” he said; “how’s J-Jimmy going to prove he’s done it?”
“Personally, I can take his word,” said Mifflin.