“You’re quite content, I suppose?” he enquired. “Up to the oxters in blood and ’appy as a lark.”
Mr. Campion regarded him coldly. “Where’s Rupert?”
“Mindin’ the telephone. That’s where Sexton Blake is.” Lugg settled himself behind the wheel. “ ’E and the dorg give me the only ’elp I get. I give them the night watchman as a runner.”
He let in the clutch with a sigh and pulled out silently into the fog.
“Now,” said Amanda to Albert as their tight little world moved cautiously through the gloom, “now, what about Geoffrey?”
“Exactly.” Mr. Campion borrowed some of her rug. “What indeed? I don’t see eye to eye with Luke exactly, but I wish that young man would have the grace to turn up.”
As usual Amanda was forthright.
“Just how funny does it look?”
“Hardly a belly-laugh.” Her husband wa
