"Vouldn't dot gif you some grimps?" cried Carl, reaching for his coat. "I vas forgeddng all aboudt dot ledder."
He extracted a sealed envelope from his pocket and tossed it to Matt. Matt pulled his chair closer to the light and examined the envelope.
He smiled grimly as he read, "'To Buttinsky, otherwise Matt King, otherwise Motor Matt. Kindness of Wienerwurst.' They're complimentary, that gang. Eh, Carl?"
Carl had been lifted out of his chair.
"Be jeerful, eferypody!" he muttered. "Is dot vat iss saidt on der enfellop, Matt? Iss it me dey mean by dot 'Wienerwurst' pitzness?"
"Of course! Who else?"
"Ach, ven I ged dime you bed you I go looking for dot cellar blace some more, und ven I findt it, I rip dot society oop der pack like some cyclones! 'Wienerwurst!' Pringle call me dot, vonce, und I gif him Hail Golumpy in forty-'lefen keys. Readt der ledder oudt loud, Matt. Oof it say anyt'ing more aboudt 'Wienerwurst,' meppy I go hunt for dot cellar blace do-night!"
"Barking dogs are not always the ones that bite, Carl," returned Matt, opening the envelope and extracting the enclosed sheet. "I haven't a very high opinion of those friends of Sercomb's, and I guess they'll be careful not to do anything very desperate."
"Vell, dey tied Verral in der Ret Flier und shtart him for der cliffs. Dot vas tesperade enough, ain'd it?"
"They did that out in the wilds; but we're in Denver now, and there's a policeman on every block."