There was a murmur of surprise, followed by many questions. Sam shook his head.
“Somehow Trojan’s Cicero is mixed up in it—how, I can’t guess,” said he. “I knew the book as soon as I saw it. Every one of the crowd would know it on sight.”
“That’s right,” Step agreed. “I’ve borrowed it a hundred times—got the best lot of written-in notes that ever happened—regular life saver sometimes. Yes, I’d know that bully old book as far as I could see it.”
“Same here!” said Poke Green; then turned to the Shark.
“Look here, old polyhedron, you were in the hall—what’s your theory? What’s all the row about?”
“No theory,” said the Shark calmly. “Wasn’t noticing—had something better to do.”
“What?”
The Shark shrugged. “I could tell you in thirty seconds, but you couldn’t understand in thirty years.”
“I believe you!” chuckled Poke cheerfully.
Zorn, who had drawn near the group, laughed cynically.