To have his performance spoiled was more than enough to account for the glow of honest indignation.

And as thought is no respecter of persons, the thought of Chief Inspector Heat took a threatening and prophetic shape.

"You, my boy," he said to himself, keeping his round and habitually roving eyes fastened upon the Assistant Commissioner's face--"you, my boy, you don't know your place, and your place won't know you very long either, I bet." As if in provoking answer to that thought, something like the ghost of an amiable smile passed on the lips of the Assistant Commissioner.

His manner was easy and business-like while he persisted in administering another shake to the tight rope.
"Let us come now to what you have discovered on the spot, Chief Inspector," he said.
"A fool and his job are soon parted," went on the train of prophetic thought in Chief Inspector Heat's head.

But it was immediately followed by the reflection that a higher official, even when "fired out" (this was the precise image), has still the time as he flies through the door to launch a nasty kick at the shin-bones of a subordinate.