“And for another I didn’t think the time ripe. I’m going to beat that fellow, Larry, but I want him to show his hand fully before we come to a smash-up. I know as much about the house and its secrets as he does, —that’s one consolation. Sometimes I don’t believe there’s a shilling here, and again I’m sure there’s a big stake in it. The fact that Pickering is risking so much to find what’s supposed to be hidden here is pretty fair evidence that something’s buried on the place.” “Possibly, but they’re giving you a lively boycott. Now where in the devil have you been?” “Well,—” I began and hesitated. I had not mentioned Marian Devereux and this did not seem the time for confidences of that sort. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it. “Bah, these women! Under the terms of your revered grandfather’s will you have thrown away all your rights. It looks to me, as a member of the Irish bar in bad standing, as though you had delivered yourself up to the enemy, so far as the legal situation is concerned. How does it strike you?” “Of course I’ve forfeited my rights. But I don’t mean that any one shall know it yet a while.” “My lad, don’t deceive yourself. Everybody round here will know it before night. You ran off, left your window open invitingly, and two gentlemen who meditated breaking in found that they needn’t take the trouble. One came in through your own room, noting, of course, your absence, let in his friend below, and tore up the place regrettably.” “Yes, but how did you get here?—if you don’t mind telling.”