“You will soon understand!” declared Moche, truculently.
After that Ascott began to scrutinize in sick bewilderment not only the Police Commissary, but also the two men who stood behind him, a pair of white-faced loafers of dubious aspect and repulsive countenance; they stood twisting about in evident embarrassment, jumping from one foot to the other and mechanically turning about their greasy caps between their fingers.
Presently the Commissary addressed the two apaches, pointing to M. Ascott.
“Do you recognize that gentleman?” he asked.
“Why, yes, it’s as you might say, the party what engaged us last evening, about midnight, at the restaurant of the Silver Goblet ...”
The Commissary questioned Ascott: “You were dining, were you not, at a restaurant in the Place de la Bastille, with the gentleman here present and mademoiselle?”—and the magistrate, to avoid any possibility of mistake, pointed in succession to M. Moche and Nini Guinon.
“Yes,” admitted Ascott, not understanding what his questioner would be at.
“Good,” continued the Commissary, and put another question:
“Are you ready to let us hear the proposals you made to these two gentlemen?”—this time pointing to “Bull’s-eye”
and the “Gasman.”