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190 but with a distinctly threatening ring in it.

"Just about what he says, I reckon," drawled Mickey Mosenstein, who was about as good a mimic as he was a juggler. "If you don't recognise that twang, I do. That was well done, Ikey boy. What'll you take? The next's with me."

What might have happened after this no one will ever know, for just at that moment one of the inspector's men entered hurriedly and handed him a note. He opened it, glanced at it, folded it up in his hand, and said:

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but, so far as I'm concerned, this entertainment will have to be postponed. Another man wants to see me very urgently about a dog."

With this he drank off the remains of his whisky and soda, and turned and walked to the door, followed by his official satellite,