on, had for mugs by a crowd of dirty blackguards composed largely of the dregs of the universe?"
"A veritable Solomon," said Algy, gazing at him admiringly through his eyeglass. "I told you this morning I detested your friends."
"Has it still further struck you," went on Hugh, a trifle grimly, "that we aren't standing for it? At any rate, I'm not. It's my palaver this, you fellows, and if you like…Well, there's no call on you to remain in the game. I mean—er—"
"Yes, we're waiting to hear what the devil you do mean," said Toby uncompromisingly.
"Well—er—" stammered Hugh, "there's a big element of risk—er—don't you know, and there's no earthly reason why you fellows should get roped in and all that. I mean—er—I'm sort of pledged to see the thing through, don't you know, and—" He relapsed into silence, and stared at the tablecloth, uncomfortably aware of three pairs of eyes fixed on him.
"Well—er—" mimicked Algy, "there's a big element of risk—er—don't you know, and I mean—er—we're sort of pledged to bung you through the window, old bean, if you talk such consolidated drivel."
Hugh grinned sheepishly.
"Well. I had to out it to you fellows. Not that I ever thought for a moment you wouldn't see the thing through—but last evening is enough to show you that we're up against a tough crowd. A damned tough crowd," he added thoughtfully. "That being so," he went on briskly, after a moment or two, "I propose that we should tackle the blighters to-night."
"To-night!" echoed Darrell. "Where?"
