“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
“Nanty! The latest—wot come on board at Gib.,” answered Binks. “Great doin’s this mornin’! Escaped criminal discovered on board the ’’Pavonia’’ owin’ to perspicosity o’ the line’s most trusted hofficer! Wot d ’ye s ’y ? Somethin’ ’ot, eh?”
Micky suddenly sat bolt upright.
“Eh?” he stammered. “Who? What?”
“Sure!” replied Binks, sitting down on the bench and lighting a pipe. “One o’ your own particilar pets.”
Micky sank back and drew the bed clothes up around his face. So it had come as soon as this!
“Yep!” continued Binks, enjoying the sensation he was creating. “Hidentified by your ’ighfalutin’ friend Mrs. ’Ubert Trevelyan!”
“Mrs. Trevelyan!” repeated Micky aghast. Could it be possible after their conversation of yesterday at the stern?
“Nailed ’im solid on the main deck!” rattled on Binks. “She and the Capting covered the ship first thing this mornin’. Caught ’im aft. Reg’lar female Sherlock ’Olmes. O’ course she knew ’im. Robbed her husband’s bloomin’ bank!”
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