And Sicily, mistress of the situation, shook her head.
"Goodness, no! I ain't been out of this hotel all evenin'."
A solemn and terrible hush fell upon the trio of slim young men who
had lately been locked in deadly combat with a large and muscular
drum-beater.
With one accord they turned and inspected the cringing Opus Randall.
He started to speak, but before the words came, the others acted.
They acted efficiently, positively and immediately. Two arms hooked
into Opus's and he found himself propelled into the darkness of the
hotel gardens. An awful thought occurred to him--there swept over
him the knowledge that no matter what developed he was in a horrid
predicament.
They escorted him outside and surrounded him. Then, with ghastly
ostentation, Cæsar, Eddie and Florian shed their torn coats and
rolled up their sleeves.
Their eyes blazed with a fine and righteous light.
"Us is about to pufform a sweet duty," remarked Mr. Slappey casually.
Mr. Clump's voice carried slightly more bitterness. "An' all on
account of this feller," he grated. "It was bad enough when us
thought we was rescuin' Sicily. But to find out she never lef' this
hotel, an' that we got beat up over some woman we don't even know..."
Opus stared wild-eyed from one to the other. He felt that it were
better that the truth be known--far better than that they should
think he had invented the entire story.
He knew he must convince them that Sicily had actually left the hotel
to visit the dancing establishment.
His eye lighted on the bruised figure of Director Edwin Boscoe Fizz.
Mr. Fizz could prove his case....
"Eddie!" he wailed, "you know good an' well Sicily lef' this hotel
tonight. You seen her go! Please, suh, tell these fellers that you
know I is speakin' the truth."
Mr. Fizz caressed his biceps. Terror still sat largely upon him and
he burned with indignation. The others moved closer. It became
terribly apparent to Mr. Randall that his only hope for mercy lay
with Mr. Fizz. If Eddie chose to testify that he spoke the truth
about Sicily's absence ...
"Eddie! Please... Don't you remember seein' Sicily Clump leave the
hotel in the taxi?"
Eddie stared thoughtfully.
Then he doubled his fists and nodded to Cæsar and Florian.
He addressed the cringing Mr. Randall--and his words shattered that
gentleman's last forlorn hope.
"When that big drummer walloped me on the jaw," announced Mr. Fizz,
"he knocked my memory plumb loose!"