The door opened slowly. A grin, surmounted by a mop of red hair,
appeared round the edge of it.

"Well, Spike. Come in. What's the matter?"

The rest of Mr. Mullins entered the room.

"Gee, Mr. Chames, I wasn't sure dat dis was your room. Say, who do
youse t'ink I nearly bumped me coco ag'in out in de corridor? Why, old
man McEachern, de cop. Dat's right!"

"Yes?"

"Sure. Say, what's he doin' on dis beat? Youse c'u'd have knocked me
down wit' a bit of poiper when I see him. I pretty near went down and
out. Dat's right. Me heart ain't got back home yet."

"Did he recognize you?"

"Sure! He starts like an actor on top de stoige when he sees he's up
against de plot to ruin him, an' he gives me de fierce eye."

"Well?"

"I was wondering was I on Third Avenue, or was I standing on me coco,
or what was I doin', anyhow. Den I slips off and chases meself up
here. Say, Mr. Chames, can _youse_ put me wise? What's de game?
What's old man McEachern doin' stunts dis side for?"