Then he went out into the lobby, and, just as I was
beginning to feel happy, I heard a bolt shot home. It cost me an
effort to remain in that chair; next moment he was straddling
another and gloating over my discomfiture across his folded arms.
"You remember Milchester, Bunny, old boy?"
His tone was as bland as mine was grim when I answered that I
did.
"We had a little match there that wasn't down on the card.
Gentlemen and Players, if you recollect?"
"I don't forget it."
"Seeing that you never got an innings, so to speak, I thought you
might. Well, the Gentlemen scored pretty freely, but the Players
were all caught."
"Poor devils!"
"Don't be too sure. You remember the fellow we saw in the inn?
The florid, over-dressed chap who I told you was one of the
cleverest thieves in town?"
"I remember him. Crawshay his name turned out to be."
"Well, it was certainly the name he was convicted under, so
Crawshay let it be. You needn't waste any pity on HIM, old chap;
he escaped from Dartmoor yesterday afternoon."
"Well done!"
Raffles smiled, but his eyebrows had gone up, and his shoulders
followed suit.
"You are perfectly right; it was very well done indeed. I wonder
you didn't see it in the paper. In a dense fog on the moor
yesterday good old Crawshay made a bolt for it, and got away
without a scratch under heavy fire.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171