"Fine!" said George, as his informant was beginning to relapse into her native tongue.
A yeasty feeling of pleasure and good-will towards his species filled him as he hung up the receiver. If Molly had started back to New York, he might expect to see her at any moment now. His heart swelled: and the fact that he was in the unfortunate position of being a fugitive from justice and the additional fact that the bloodhound of the Law most interested in his movements was probably somewhere very close at hand entirely escaped him. Abandoning the caution which should have been the first thought of one situated as he was, he burst into jovial song.
"Hey, Pinch!"
George, who had been climbing towards a high note, came back to earth again, chilled and apprehensive. His first impulse was to dash for his bedroom and hide under the bed—a thing which he knew himself to be good at. Then his intelligence asserted itself and panic waned. Only one man of his acquaintance could have addressed him as "Hey, Pinch!"
"Is that Mr. Waddington?" he murmured, opening the door of the sitting-room and peering in.
"Sure it's Mr. Waddington." The reek of a lively young cigar assailed George's nostrils. "Don't you have any lights in this joint?"
"Are there any policemen about?" asked George in a conspiratorial undertone.
"There's one policeman down in young Beamish's apartment," replied Mr. Waddington with a fruity chuckle. "He's just sold me all his holdings in the Finer and Better Motion Picture Company of Hollywood, Cal., for three hundred smackers: and I've come here to celebrate. Set up the drinks," said Mr. Waddington, who was plainly in as festive a mood as a man can be without actually breaking up the furniture.
George switched on the light. If the enemy was in as distant a spot as Hamilton Beamish's apartment, prudence might be relaxed.
"'At's right," said Mr. Waddington, welcoming the illumination. He was leaning against a book-shelf with his hat on the back of his head and a cigar between his lips. His eyes were sparkling with an almost human intelligence. "I've got a smart business head, Pinch," he said, shooting the cigar from due east to due west with a single movement of his upper lip. "I'm the guy with the big brain."