"An' why should you be after botherin' us with your health
ordinances--two poor girls that has a chance to turn a few pennies, with
pork so dear? 'Look at all that good swill goin' to waste,' says I to
Katie here. 'An' who's to care if I do boil some extra praties now an'
then? Mr. Bauer's that rich, ain't he? An' what harm at all should
there be in raisin' one little shoat in th' back yard?' So there,
Mister! Do your worst. An' maybe it's only a warnin' I'll get from th'
justice when he hears how Schwartzenberger's killed and dressed and taken
him off before daylight. There he goes, the poor darlint! That's his
last squeal."
We didn't need to stretch our ears to catch it. I looks over at the
Lieutenant and grins foolish. But he wouldn't be satisfied until Maggie
had towed him out to view the remains. He's pink behind the ears when he
comes back, too.
"Please, Mister Inspector," says Maggie, "you'll not have us up this
time, will yez?"
"Bah!" says Cecil.
"Seein' it's you," says I, "he won't. Course, though, a report of this
plot of yours'll have to be made to the British War Office."
"Oh, I say now!" protests the Lieutenant.
And all the way down to his hotel he holds that vivid neck tint.
"Well," says Old Hickory, as I drifts back to the office, "did you and
the Lieutenant discover any serious plot of international character?"
"Sure thing!" says I.
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