“Mr. Cardomay,” said Gimball, “I reckon you’ve saved my licence.”
“It had not occurred to me I had so important a task to fulfil,” returned Eliphalet.
“I can tell you I’m grateful.”
“Well, you will at least admit I kept them in the theatre and got them out.”
In the foyer of the hotel Captain Raeburn was waiting, a broad hand outstretched to greet him.
“You flirted with death better than anyone I’ve struck yet,” he said. “I estimate you have saved a hundred lives to-night, Mr. Cardomay. Are you big enough to accept an apology?”
A flush of pride spread over Eliphalet’s rugose features.
“I am small enough to be deeply flattered by it,” he replied, as he took the proffered hand. “Yet, after all, it was a simple enough matter. I had but to follow my training—to give them a few whiffs from the gas-works.”
“I deserve it, Colonel,” Raeburn acknowledged, “and a good kicking besides. But look here, after all this, surely you’ll have a drink to-night.”
Eliphalet smiled whimsically.