"I ask your pardon, sir," says Mr. George. "But you have not mentioned that party's name. Is it a secret, sir?"
"The boy makes it one. But his name is Bucket."
"Bucket the detective, sir?"
"The same man."
"The man is known to me, sir," returns the trooper after blowing out a cloud of smoke and squaring his chest, "and the boy is so far correct that he undoubtedly is a--rum customer." Mr. George smokes with a profound meaning after this and surveys Miss Flite in silence.

"Is that person's name a secret, sir?"
"His name is Bucket."
"Bucket the detective, sir?"
"The same man."
"The man is known to me, sir," returns the trooper, "and he undoubtedly is a - rum customer."
