"I'm afraid I'm keeping you up, Mr. Tibbetts," he said.
"Not at all," said Bones cheerfully. "Let's have a look at that cheque
I gave you."
The other hesitated.
"Let me have a look at it," said Bones, and Mr. Hyane, with a smile,
took it from his pocket and handed it to the other.
"Half for you and half for her, eh, dear old thing?" said Bones, and
tore the cheque in two. "That's your half," he said, handing one
portion to Mr. Hyane.
"What the devil are you doing?" demanded the other angrily, but Bones
had him by the collar, and was kicking him along the all-too-short
corridor.
"Open the door, Ali!" said Bones. "Open it wide, dear old heathen!
Ooff!"
The "Ooff!" was accompanied by one final lunge of Bones's long legs.
At midnight Bones was sitting on the platform at King's Cross,
alternately smoking a large pipe and singing tuneless songs. They told
him that the next train from York would not arrive until three in the
morning.
"That doesn't worry me, old thing. I'll wait all night."
"Expecting somebody, sir?" asked the inquisitive porter.
"Everybody, my dear old uniformed official," said Bones, "everybody!"