The Antipope
“From the moment they had despatched the sinister contents of the sack along the river John Vincent Omally and James Arbuthnot Pooley were never to be seen apart. The days passed wearily with no call from the Professor. Pooley wondered if the old man might possibly have lost his nerve and decided to do a runner, but Omally, whose faith in the Professor bordered upon the absolute, would have none of that. “He has seen too much,” he assured Pooley, “he will not rest till that Pope Alex is driven b...ack into the dark oblivion from whence he came.”
“There is a definite sword of Damocles air to all this,” said Jim. “I feel that around every corner something is lurking, every time a telephone rings or a postman appears I have to make a dash for the gents.”
“My own bladder has not been altogether reliable of late,” said John dismally.
“Talking of bladders, it would appear to be opening time.”
John nodded.MoreLess
“There is a definite sword of Damocles air to all this,” said Jim. “I feel that around every corner something is lurking, every time a telephone rings or a postman appears I have to make a dash for the gents.”
“My own bladder has not been altogether reliable of late,” said John dismally.
“Talking of bladders, it would appear to be opening time.”
John nodded.MoreLess
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