"Where?" he asked sternly.
"At the Thornes' house—you know, there's a Miss Thorne who lives there—the daughter of old Joe S. Thorne." Then, seeing the blank look on his chief's face, Foster explained further. "It seems there was a jewel robbery there last night—a million dollars' worth, the sheriff says." He smiled, for the sheriff was a well-known exaggerator, but he met no answering smile. "They've been telephoning for you to come over."
"Who has?" said O'Bannon.
Foster thought him unusually slow of understanding this morning, and answered patiently, "Miss Thorne has. There's been a robbery there."
The district attorney was not slow in action.
"I'll go right over," he said, and left the office.
There were some advantages in holding public office. You could be sent for in your official capacity—and stick to it, by heaven!
This time he asked no questions at the door, but entered.
Morson said timidly, "Who shall I say, sir?"
"Say the district attorney."