CHAPTER XIV.
In which, incredible as it may seem, a non-Pole has the better of a Pole.
On Tuesday morning Mr. Kirby woke eager for action. Things were fitting in. It was great fun.
Mr. Kirby loved to fit things in—he ought to have been a soldier.
He calculated with a pleasing exactitude. That morning—thanks to the stupid police and the telephone—he would find the Green Overcoat; that afternoon and evening he would invite such other guests as pleased him to dine with him next day, the Wednesday, in London, after Professor Higginson's great lecture upon the Immortality of the Soul. It was an interesting subject, the Immortality of the Soul.
To make certain that all his guests should be there, he would try to talk to one of them in London over the telephone from Ormeston that night. … One of them called James McAuley. He liked the boy. While he was
