"The police?" Hank smiled. "Oh, the police are all right: but there’s nothing doin’ with the police. This is a feud for private circulation only." "But!" cried Tuppy violently and unpleasantly excited, "it’s distinctly unfair to our splendid constabulary; you oughtn’t to be selfish, old feller—suppose this horrid person with his unsportin’ revolver killed _me_! Oh, you can laugh, dear bird, but it’d be doosid unpleasant for me!" "I’m not laughing, Tuppy," said the Duke seriously, "I can quite understand your funk——" "My dear good misguided an’ altogether uncharitable friend," said Tuppy, greatly pained, "it isn’t funk—I’m notoriously rash as a matter of fact: why my discharge was suspended for bein’ rash an’ hazardous—they were the Official Receiver’s own words. No, it isn’t funk, it’s an inherited respect for the law." He was considerably ruffled. "Well, let me say I can appreciate your law-abiding spirit," said the Duke, "but as Hank said, this isn’t a case for the police: it’s a purely personal matter between Mr. Slewer and myself. But because the beggar is getting over bold, it is necessary to clip his wings—this is our opportunity." It was at this point that Olejoe made his reappearance. Cole announced him and the Duke, somewhat astonished, ordered him to be brought in. He entered smiling somewhat vacantly, and stood unsteadily by the door holding his hat in his hand. "A friend’s a friend," he said thickly, "an’ a friend in need is a friend in—deed." He smiled benevolently. "There’s them," he said with a sneer, "that don’t believe all they hear an’ only half what they see. There’s them that wouldn’t believe people could be crowned an’ sat on a throne an’ all." His smile became indulgent. "Me an’ a friend of mine," he went off at an angle, "not exactly a friend but a chap I know, went up to the West end. His name was Harry." "Olejoe," said the Duke sternly, "go home." "’Arf a moment," said Olejoe, "I’m coming to the part that will knock you out. D’ye know the _White Drover_ outside Victoria Station? It’s a house I seldom use. But Harry does, so we went in." "I gathered that much," said the Duke. "’What’s yours,’ sez Harry. ’No,’ I sez, ’it’s my turn, what’s yours?’ ’No,’ sez Harry, ’I’ll pay, what’s yours?’ ’No,’ I sez—" "Cut it out," pleaded Hank, "forget it——" "... when I heard a chap speakin’ in the next bar: a private bar with red velvet seats. An American chap he was, like Hank." It is a proof of Olejoe’s exhilaration that he said "Hank" calmly and coolly and without a blush. "He sez—the American chap—’I’m layin’ for Dukey,’ an’ the other feller (I’ll tell you his name in a minute, it’ll come as a terrible surprise to you) sez ’Do nothin’ yet,’ just like that ’do nothin’ yet!’ "’I’ve got an idea,’ sez this chap—not the American chap—’that when this Duke person finds my niece has gone with us to Merroccer——’" "To Morocco?" queried the Duke eagerly.