"Now, my
friend," he continued rapidly, "you'd better go in and put on your
war-togs." Vernon groaned. "Put 'em on thick. I believe Markeld suspects
the trick we're playing, and we've got to fool him--we've got to show
him what a sick man you are."
"How _could_ he suspect?" demanded Vernon, incredulously. "Even if he
saw me, he couldn't recognise me--he doesn't know me."
"Perhaps those girls have already given you away."
"Nonsense! You fellows are afraid of your own shadows. He can't
suspect!"
"Just the same, we've got to be prepared for emergencies. Have you got
plenty of pepper?"
Vernon groaned again.
"Plenty! I tell you fellows I'll ruin my health if I keep this up much
longer. I might easily burst a blood-vessel. People often do when they
sneeze."
"Well, we'll have to take the risk," said Blake, with grim complacency.
"Much risk you take! In fact, I saw you sprinkling pepper on my
handkerchief this morning, when there wasn't the slightest need of it."
"Now, see here," protested Collins, sharply, "what's the use of all this
argument? We've got to see this thing through, whether we like it or
not. I've sent for Scaddam, so he'll be on the scene in case of
emergencies--"
"You mean, if I break a blood-vessel?" inquired Vernon, politely.
"Oh, break your grandmother! I tell you--"
There was a second tap on the door and Vernon again made a dive for the
inner room.
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