And suddenly he pulled a box of cigars towards him, took one out, and pushed the box to me.
"Help yourself, Mr.Moneylaws--and go ahead," he said.

"I'm willing to hear as many chapters as you like of this story." I shook my head at the cigars and went on to tell him of all that had happened since the murder of Crone.

He was a good listener--he took in every detail, every point, quietly smoking while I talked, and never interrupting me.

And when I had made an end, he threw up his head with a significant gesture that implied much.
"That beats all the story-books!" he exclaimed.

"I'm glad to see you're safe, anyway, Mr.Moneylaws--and your mother and your young lady'll be glad too." "They will that, Mr.Smeaton," I said.