"Well?"
"I was wondering was I on Third Avenue, or was I standing on me coco, or what was I doin', anyhow. Den I slips off and chases meself up here. Say, Mr. Chames, can youse put me wise? What's de game? What's old man McEachern doin' stunts dis side for?"
"It's all right, Spike. Keep calm. I can explain. Mr. McEachern owns the house."
"On your way, Mr. Chames! What's dat?"
"This is his house we're in, now. He left the force three years ago, came over here, and bought this place. And here we are again, all gathered together under the same roof, like a jolly little family party."
Spike's open mouth bore witness to his amazement.
"Den all dis——"
"Belongs to him? That's it. We are his guests, Spike."
"But what's he goin' to do?"
"I couldn't say. I'm expecting to hear shortly. But we needn't worry ourselves. The next move's with him. If he wants to say anything about it, he must come to me."