"We haven't the goods," Marston shrugged. "We can't find it."

Sparrow shook his head curtly.

"It's the truth," Harleston interjected. "They haven't found the goods
for the very good reason that the goods are not here. Plunge in and aid
in the search; I wish you would; it will relieve me of your triple
intrusion in one third less time. I'm becoming very tired of it all; it
has lost its novelty. I prefer to sleep."

"I want the letter!" Crenshaw exclaimed.

"I assumed as much from the vigour of your quest," Harleston shrugged.
"The difficulty is that I haven't the letter. Neither is it in my
apartment. But you'll facilitate the search if you'll depress your
respective cannon from the angle of each other's anatomy and get to
work. As I remarked before, I'm anxious to compose myself for sleep. You
can hold your little dispute later on the sidewalk, or in jail, or
wherever is most convenient."

"Mr. Harleston," said Marston, "do you give us your word that the letter
is not in your apartment?"

"You already have it," Harleston replied wearily.

"Then, sir, we'll take your word and withdraw."

"Thank you," said Harleston.