not their money) lavishly. From the attraction of this company--not
composed of gentlemen only--Neddy refused to be separated. Mr. Bennett,
who was on thorns at the delay, could take it or leave it at that; in
any case the job was, in Neddy's opinion (which he expressed with that
massive but good-humored scorn which is an appanage of very large men), a
leap in the dark, a pig in a poke, blind hookey; for who really knew how
much of the stuff the old blighter and his pal had contrived to shift
down to the Cottage in the old brown bag. Sometimes it looked light,
sometimes it looked heavy; sometimes perhaps it was full of bricks!

In this mood Neddy had to be humored, even though gentlemanly Mr. Bennett
sat on thorns. The Sergeant repined less at the delay; he liked the
pickings which the job brought him much better than the job itself,
standing in wholesome dread of Beaumaroy. It was rather with resignation
than with joy that he received from Mr. Bennett the news that Neddy had
at last named the day that would suit his High Mightiness--Tuesday the
7th of January it was, and, as it chanced, the very day before Beaumaroy
was to start for Morocco! More accurately, the attack would be delivered
on the actual day of his departure--if he went. For it was timed for one
o'clock in the morning, an hour at which the road across the heath might
reasonably be expected to be clear of traffic. This was an especially
important point, in view of the fact that the window of the Tower faced
towards the road and was but four or five yards distant from it.

After a jovial dinner--rather too jovial in Mr. Bennett's opinion, but
that was Neddy's only fault, he would mix pleasure with business--the two
set out in an Overland car. Mr. Bennett--whom, by the way, his big friend
Neddy called "Mike," and not "Percy," as might have been
expected--assumed his sandy wig and red mustache as soon as they were
well started; Neddy scorned disguise for the moment, but he had a mask in