Chapter Twenty Three.
Pretty warm all round.
“Dicky, old chap, I’m in a howling mess.”
“The same old one, or a new one?”
“It’s about those blessed bills of Tempest’s—I wish I’d let them alone. You see, it was this way. How was I to know? I’m sure I never meant to do anything shady.”
“I dare say not, but what are you talking about?”
“Why, I’ve been regularly let in. You see, I—”
“Look here, old chap, let’s hear what it is,” said the practical Dicky.