"He says he
is from a detective agency, but I couldn't catch the name of it."
Mr. Bingle halted. "Detective agency, Diggs?"
"So he said, sir."
Flanders arose. "Perhaps you'd like to have me go with you, Mr.
Bingle. I know most of these fellows. If I can be of any assistance--"
"Thank you, no," said Mr. Bingle nervously. I--I think I'd better see
him alone. Now, Mary, don't look frightened. I haven't the remotest
idea what he wants, but as I haven't been up to anything--ahem! Keep
your seat, Frederick!"
"I want to see a detective," pleaded Frederick. "Is he disguised,
Diggs? Has he got on false whiskers? Please, daddy--"
"Maybe it's old Santy," cried Wilberforce in a voice that thrilled.
Mr. Bingle left a pleasant atmosphere of excitement behind him when he
disappeared between the portieres. At once the company broke into
eager, speculative whispers that soon grew to a perfect storm of
shrill inquiry. Every one was guessing, and every one was guessing as
loudly as possible in order to be heard above the clamour.
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