The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. "If the best nag ever foaled were to throw me in this unlucky spot, I'd blow his brains out. ” “Right,” he answered. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. Besides, you've secrets which must not be disclosed. "Don't alarm yourself about him, Sir," replied Austin. “Can you give me any information as to this affair?” he asked. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall.
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