"Mershone in, Billy?" the detective asked the desk sergeant.

"Room 24. Want him?"

"Not now. When is he likely to go?"

"When Parker relieves me. There's been a reg'lar mob here to get
Mershone off. I couldn't prevent his using the telephone; but I'm a
stubborn duck; eh, Quintus? And now the gentleman has gone to bed,
vowing vengeance."

"You're all right, Billy. We both know Mershone. Gentleman scoundrel."

"Exactly. Swell society blackleg."

"What name's he docked under?"

"Smith."

"Will Parker let him off with a fine?"

"Yes, or without it. Parker comes on at six."

"Good. I'll take a nap on that bench. Got to keep the fellow in sight,
Billy."

"Go into my room. There's a cot there."

"Thanks, old man; I will. I'm dead tired."