If he heard the faint and agonised appeal from within Mr. Slack chose
not to heed it. He found the right key on his key ring, applied it to
the lock, turned the bolt and shoved the door wide open, giving back
then in case of an attack. The front room was empty. Mr. Slack crossed
cautiously to the inner room and peered across the threshold into it,
Mr. Braydon and a grey-coated private watchman and a procession of
half-clad figures following along after him.
Where was the mysterious intruder? Ah, there he was, huddled up in a far
corner alongside the bed as though he sought to hide himself away from
their glaring eyes. And at the sight of what he beheld Mr. Bob Slack
gave one great shocked snort of surprise, and then one of recognition.
For all that the cowering wretch wore a quaint garment of a bright and
watermelonish hue, except where it was streaked with transom dust and
marked with ash-can grit; for all that his head was bare, and his knees,
and a considerable section of his legs as well; for all that he had
white socks and low slippers, now soaking wet, upon his feet; for all
his elbow sleeves and his pink garters and his low neck; and finally for
all that his face was now beginning, as they stared upon it, to wear
the blank wan look of one who is about to succumb to a swoon of
exhaustion induced by intense physical exertion or by acutely prolonged
mental strain or by both together--Mr. Bob Slack detected in this
fabulous oddity a resemblance to his associate in the practice of law at
Number Thirty-two Broad Street.
"In the name of heaven, Leary----" he began.
But a human being can stand just so many shocks in a given number of
minutes--just so many and no more. Gently, slowly, the gartered legs
gave way, bending outward, and as their owner collapsed down upon his
side with the light of consciousness flickering in his eyes, his figure
was half-turned to them, and they saw how that he was ornamentally but
securely buttoned down the back with many large buttons and how that
with a last futile fluttering effort of his relaxing hands he fumbled
first at one and then at another of these buttons.
"Leary, what in thunder have you been doing? And where on earth have you
been?" Mr. Slack shot the questions forth as he sprang to his partner's
side and knelt alongside the slumped pink shape.
Languidly Mr. Leary opened one comatose eye. Then he closed it again and
the wraith of a smile formed about his lips, and just as he went sound
asleep upon the floor Mr. Slack caught from Mr. Leary the softly
whispered words, "I've been the life of the party!"