'Poor man! I must have given him a jolt! But why didn't you tell me about him before?'
'Oh, I don't know.'
'Oh, well, I'm not inquisitive. There's no rubber in my composition. It's your affair.'
'You won't tell Dudley?'
'Of course not. But why not? You've nothing to be ashamed of.'
'No; but—'
'Well, I won't tell him, anyway. But I'm glad you told me about him. Dudley was so eloquent about burglars that he almost had me going. I wonder where he rushed off to?'
Dudley Pickering had rushed off to his bedroom, and was examining a revolver there. He examined it carefully, keenly. Preparedness was Dudley Pickering's slogan. He looked rather like a stout sheriff in a film drama.
16
In the interesting land of India, where snakes abound and scorpions are common objects of the wayside, a native who has had the misfortune to be bitten by one of the latter pursues an admirably common-sense plan. He does not stop to lament, nor does he hang about analysing his emotions. He runs and runs and runs, and keeps on running until he has worked the poison out of his system. Not until then does he attempt introspection.