“It is none of your business,” said Jack crossly.
“Check,” cried Vic.
“What are you talking about, anyway?” inquired Jack.
“A note was sent by you,” said Vic impressively, “through some agency at present unknown. So far, so good.”
“Unknown? What rubbish. I sent a note by Sam Wigglesworth, who gave it to some of you for Adrien. What about it?”
As they approached the entrance to the Maitland Mills Vic saw a stream of employees issue from the gate.
“Nothing more at present,” he said. “This is my corner. Let me out. I am in an awful hurry, Jack.”
“Will you tell me, please, what all this means?” said Jack angrily.
“Sorry, old chap. Awfully hurried just now. See you later.”
“You are a vast idiot,” grumbled Jack, as Vic ran down the street.