"You'll be very clever if you do," their object commented grimly as with a sigh of relief he turned to the smilingly inquisitive face of the landlord who had now appeared.
CHAPTER VI
"Did you call, my lord?" was, considering the tone of the summons, Host Popkiss' unnecessary enquiry.
"My lord!" repeated Peckover irritably. "How you country fellows do a joke to death. Yes; I did call. Who was that absurd person intruding through the window?"
Mr. Popkiss went to the window with what promptness his bulk would allow and looked blankly out into the rain-swept courtyard. "I don't see any one," he said.
"I can't eat my dinner with a Jack-in-the-box fooling behind me," Peckover complained suspiciously.
"No, certainly not," the host agreed with professional severity. "It must have been Doutfire." Satisfied with the conjecture he went up confidentially to his guest. "I'll tell you, my lord. It might have been Mr. Doutfire, our detective from Long Rixon."
Peckover with an effort arrested his jaw in the act of falling, and snapped it to with a rattle of the teeth.
"De—detective?"