"You little dog—" began the enraged man, but Mr. Garway stopped his explosion of rage with a gesture of the hand.
"Softly, friend, let me question the boy," he said. "If the box has been made into a hen-coop, what have you done, let me ask, with the papers it contained?"
"I han't done nothin' with 'em," faltered Joe, giving a timid sidelong glance at his father.
"Yes, you patched the window-pane," said little May, pointing to the casement in which more than one pane held more of paper than of glass.
Mr. Sharp instantly rose, went up to the window, and carefully examined the paper; then shook his head, and returned to his seat.
"It, is desirable that every fragment of old papers which the box contained should, if possible, be recovered," observed Mr. Garway. "I would have the strictest search made for them at once."
Off started Joe and David, almost before the sentence was finished; they were only too glad to make their escape from the room, and their ambitious hopes were awakened by the gentlemen evidently setting great value upon what had seemed worthless to them.
"I has," began May, and stopt short in fear.
"You have what, little woman?" asked Sharp.
"Bits in my bag," whispered the child.