Peter felt suddenly that he had a good defense.  Of course a woman like that had been too much for him!  It was Guffey’s own fault if he hired people like that and turned them loose!  It suddenly dawned on Peter—­Nell must have found out that he, Peter, was going to meet young Lackman in the Hotel de Soto, and she must have gone there deliberately to ensnare him.  When McGivney admitted that that was possibly true, Peter felt that he had a case, and proceeded to urge it with eloquence.  He had been a fool, of course, every kind of fool there was, and he hadn’t a word to say for himself; but he had learned his lesson and learned it thoroughly.  No more women for him, and no more high life, and if Mr. Guffey would give him another chance—­

Guffey, of course, snorted at him.  He wouldn’t have a pudding-head like Peter Gudge within ten miles of his office!  But Peter only pleaded the more abjectly.  He really did know the Reds thoroughly, and where could Mr. Guffey find anybody that knew them as well?  The Reds all trusted him; he was a real martyr—­look at the plasters all over him now!  And he had just added another Red laurel to his brow—­he had been to see Mrs. Godd, and had had the seat of his trousers kicked by Mr. Godd, and of course he could tell that story, and maybe he could catch some Reds in a conspiracy against Mr. Godd.  Anyhow, they had that perfectly good case against McCormick and the rest of the I. W. Ws.  And now that things had gone so far, surely they couldn’t back down on that case!  All that was necessary was to explain matters to Mr. Ackerman—­

Peter realized that this was an unfortunate remark.  Guffey was on his feet again, pacing up and down the room, calling Peter the names of all the barnyard animals, and incidentally revealing that he had already had an interview with Mr. Ackerman, and that Mr. Ackerman was not disposed to receive amicably the news that the secret service bureau which he had been financing, and which was supposed to be protecting him, had been the means of introducing into his home a couple of high-class criminals who had cracked his safe and made off with jewels that they guessed were worth fifty thousand dollars, but that Mr. Ackerman claimed were worth eighty-five thousand dollars.  Peter was informed that he might thank his lucky stars that Guffey didn’t shut him in the hole for the balance of his life, or take him into a dungeon and pull him to pieces inch by inch.  As it was, all he had to do was to get himself out of Guffey’s office, and take himself to hell by the quickest route he could find.  “Go on!” said Guffey.  “I mean it, get out!”