“Ocean liners aren’t often wrecked nowadays.”
“I was thinking more of the brawls on shore. America’s a dangerous country. But perhaps you were not in touch with the underworld?”
“I don’t think I was.”
“Ah!” said John Peters significantly.
He took up the revolver, gave it a fond and almost paternal look, and replaced it on the desk.
“What on earth are you doing with that thing?” asked Sam.
Mr. Peters lowered his voice.
“I’m going to America myself in a few days’ time, Mr. Samuel. It’s my annual holiday, and the guv’nor’s sending me over with papers in connection with The People v. Schultz and Bowen. It’s a big case over there. A client of ours is mixed up in it, an American gentleman. I am to take these important papers to his legal representative in New York. So I thought it best to be prepared.”
The first smile that he had permitted himself for nearly two weeks flitted across Sam’s face.
“What on earth sort of place do you think New York is?” he asked. “It’s safer than London.”