“Wot’ll he do?”
“Clap me into prison, I suppose.”
“Hadn’t we better cut an’ run fer it right now?”
“I can’t. He has my word of honor that I would report the success or failure of my mission.”
“I guess he ain’t troublin’ hisself about honor, is he?”
“I suppose not.”
“W’y should you, sir?”
“That’s the disadvantage a gentleman labors under in dealing with a scoundrel.”
“I see. Hev ye thought that ye’ll be sarched by the police an’——?”
“By Jove!” I interrupted. “That’s so.”