Jimmy smiled pleasantly.

"Come in, Mr. McEachern," he said, "come in. Journeys end in lovers
meeting. You know my friend, Mr. Mullins, I think? Shut the door, and
sit down and let's talk of many things."




CHAPTER VIII.


"It's a conspiracy!" thundered Mr. McEachern.

He stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. It has been shown that the
ex-policeman was somewhat prone to harbor suspicions of those round
about him, and at the present moment his mind was aflame. Indeed, a
more trusting man might have been excused for feeling a little
doubtful as to the intentions of Jimmy and Spike. When McEachern had
heard that his stepson had brought home a casual London acquaintance,
he had suspected the existence of hidden motives on the part of the
unknown. Spennie, he had told himself, was precisely the sort of youth
to whom the professional bunko-steerer would attach himself with
shouts of joy. Never, he had assured himself, had there been a softer
proposition than his stepson since bunko-steering became a profession.

When he found that the strange visitor was Jimmy Pitt, his suspicions
had increased a thousandfold.