Togs, his dog, was panting as if he had just finished the race of his life.
"A difficult climb," wheezed Fingers.

"A most difficult climb." He sat down, rolling out like a great bag of jelly in the one chair in the cell, and began to fan himself with his hat.

Kent had already taken stock of the situation.

In Fingers' florid countenance and in his almost colorless eyes he detected a bit of excitement which Fingers was trying to hide.

Kent knew what it meant.