He is
coming toward this table."
Mr. Parker's expression never changed. Not a muscle twitched. His tone was
even careless.
"Just as well, perhaps," he remarked, "that we worked that little
conjuring trick."
The detective stood once more at our table. My instinctive dislike of him
was now an accomplished thing. I hated his smile of subdued triumph, and
all my fundamental ideas as to law and order were seriously affected by
it. I was distinctly on the side of my new acquaintance.
"I am sorry to interrupt this little feast," Mr. Cullen said, "but I shall
have to trouble you both to come with me for a short time."
Mr. Parker carefully clipped the end of his cigar and leaned back in his
chair while he lit it.
"My friend Cullen," he remonstrated, "I have no objection to offering
myself up as a victim to your super-abundant energy and trotting about
with you wherever you choose; but when it comes to dragging my friends
into it, I just want to say right here that I think you are carrying
things a little too far--just a little too far, sir."
"If either of you seriously object to my request," Mr. Cullen replied
doggedly, "I can put the matter on a different basis."
"Who is this friend of yours and why should we go anywhere with him?" I
asked.
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