“Oh, yes,” he cried, suddenly. “I forgot. Peter Smith is the name he gave. You’ve a Peter Smith here!”
The sergeant gazed at the excited man in indescribable amazement.
“Peter Smith!” he stammered. “Why, yes. But he’s a tramp. He’s arrested for burglary, and——”
The strange gentleman was evidently angry at having been stirred out of bed so early in the morning. Moreover he was insulted at the outrageous idea of his nephew’s being in a common prison house as a burglar. Altogether he was mad through, and didn’t take the trouble to be cautious.
“Let him out this instant, I say,” he demanded, indignantly. “How dare you——”
Now the sergeant was a pompous individual and he had no idea of being “bossed” like that by any one, whoever he might be, least of all in the presence of his men. Moreover, he was an Irishman, and this angry individual’s superior way got him wild.
“Who are you?” he demanded, with more conciseness than courtesy.
“I’m Perry Bellwood,” said the other with just as much asperity. “And what is more——”
“Who in thunder is Perry Bellwood?” roared the sergeant.
That took all the wind out of the elderly and aristocratic gentleman’s sails.