"
"All right," said Bream.
"Get your coat."
"All right," said Bream.
"And cap."
"All right," said Bream.
He followed Billie in a docile manner out through the front door, and they
made their way to the garage at the back of the house, both silent. The
only difference between their respective silences was that Billie's was
thoughtful, while Bream's was just the silence of a man who has unhitched
his brain and is getting along as well as he can without it.
In the hall they had left, Jane Hubbard once more took command of
affairs.
"Well, that's something done," she said, scratching Smith's broad back
with the muzzle of her weapon. "Something accomplished, something done,
has earned a night's repose. Not that we're going to get it yet. I
think those fellows are hiding somewhere, and we ought to search the
house and rout them out. It's a pity Smith isn't a bloodhound. I like
you personally, Smithy, but you're about as much practical use in a
situation like this as a cold in the head.
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