cat-napping. The game was on again. He was assured of that side of it.
Green stones, the sunlight breaking against the flaws in a shower of golden sparks; green as the pulp of a Champagne grape; the drums of jeopardy! Murder and loot; he could understand.
Immediately after the patient was put to bed Cutty changed. A nondescript suit of the day-labourer type and a few deft touches of coal dust completed his make-up.
"I shan't be back until morning," he announced. "Work to do. Kuroki will be at your service through the night, Miss Frances. Strike that Burmese gong once, at any hour. Come along, Harrison."
"Want any company?" asked Harrison, with a belligerent twist to his moustache.
Cutty laughed. "No. You run along to your lambs. I'm running with the wolves to-night, old scout, and you might get that spick-and-span uniform considerably mussed up. Besides, it's raining."
"But what's to become of Miss Conover? She ought not to remain alone in that apartment."
"Well, well! I thought of that, too. But she can take care of herself."
"Those ruffians may call up the hospital and learn that we tricked them."
"And then?"
"Try to force the truth from Miss Conover."
