But if those fellows were to take it into their heads that it would be more profitable to share the prize among ten than among sixty ?" "Secreanom!!" swore Charlot impatiently.

"You do my wits poor credit.
For what do you take me?
Have I gone through so much, think you, without learning how little men are to be trusted?
Faugh! Look at the porte-cochere.

The gates are closed--aye, and locked, mon cher, and the keys are here, in my pocket.

Do you imagine they are to be broken through without arousing anyone?
And then, the horses.

They are in the stables over there, and again, the keys are in my pocket.