A howl of disapproval rose from the company. Indignant voices accused Arthur Mifflin of having a yellow streak. Encouraging voices urged him not to be a quitter.
“See! They scorn you!” said Jimmy. “And rightly. Be a man, Arthur. What’ll you bet?”
Mr. Mifflin regarded him with pity.
“You don’t know what you’re taking on, Jimmy,” he said. “You’re half a century behind the times. You have an idea that all a burglar needs is a mask, a blue chin, and a dark lantern. I tell you he requires a highly specialised education. I’ve been talking to these detective fellows, and I know. Now, take your case, you worm. Have you a thorough knowledge of chemistry, physics, toxicology——?”
“Of course I have.”
“Electricity and microscopy?”
“You have discovered my secret.”
“Can you use an oxyacetylene blow-pipe?”
“I never travel without one.”
“What do you know about the administration of anaesthetics?”