“All right, sir,” Gibbs said, still undecided as to why he had been fooled.
Sarah looked at him with scorn. “I’ll be glad to have someone else on the job. I’m sick o’ trottin’ around with a fat guy like him.”
“Say, now,” Gibbs protested in an injured manner.
But Taylor had a bigger scheme on hand and waved her away impatiently. “Take her along, Gibbs.”
She gave Taylor an impudent little nod of farewell. “Ta-ta old Sport. I certainly fooled you, when you had that gun shot off.”
Gibbs had grabbed her by the arm and was now pushing her toward the door. “And I could have kept it up,” Miss Peabody asserted in a shrill tone, “if it hadn’t made me sore, her putting over one on me like that. And she was so blamed nice to me. But when one woman’s nice to another she means mischief, you can bet your B. V. D.’s.”
Even Taylor smiled as she went. He had nearly met defeat but his habitual luck had made him victor in the end. He hoped it would aid him in a far more difficult interview which was to come.
Duncan took advantage of his good humor to ask a question.
“Do you really think you can get Miss Cartwright to help us on the Denby case?”
He had so often seen her name in the society columns that he doubted if his chief, clever as he was, could successfully influence her.