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This game, Mr. Harleston," said a familiar voice, and Crenshaw stepped
out in front. "I'm in a better humour now, and
more my natural self; I was somewhat peeved in the Collingwood--due to
late hours, I think. By the way, it isn't an especially pleasant game
for the fellow who is it, Mr. Harleston?
I'll take your answer for granted--or we'll let my distinguished
colleague answer for you--you know
Mr. Sparrow, sir?" as the man with the garrote put
his head over Harleston's shoulder. "Answer for Mr.
Harleston will
you, Sparrow?" "No, it is not, Mr.
Cren
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