No use to disturb Mrs. Magnus till morning,"
he added, with a glance at the gloomy house. "Then we'll have Jemmy
give us a special performance of his impersonation of the ghost of
Peter Magnus."
The prisoner laughed.
"Glad to," he said. "I think you'll find it A one."
"No doubt," assented Godfrey. "As soon as Lester told me the story I
knew you were the only man who could have worked it. And then there
was the desk."
"Of course," agreed the prisoner. "You'd see that."
This was all Greek to me, but I knew the explanation would come in
time. Meanwhile I carefully stowed away the five precious packets in
my bag.
"Why can't we go over to my rooms at the Marathon and hear the story?"
I suggested. "It's right across the street from the station."
"All right," said Godfrey, and led the way down the street, with Jemmy
keeping step with him as well as his short legs would permit. Five
minutes later we were in my rooms, and I switched on the lights and
got out the cigars.
"If you'll see that the doors are locked, Lester, I'll open this
handcuff temporarily," said Godfrey. "But first," and he ran his hands
over his prisoner's person. "Ah, I thought so," he said, and produced
a small revolver of exquisite workmanship. "You always were a
connoisseur, Jemmy," he added, examining the weapon, and then slipping
it into his own pocket. "All right. Now you sit down over there and be
good."
"Oh, I'll be good," said Jemmy. "I guess I know when I'm crimped.
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