"Of course, you always were a good teacher," sneered Humbolt.
"I used to be, once," returned Doctor Daw.
"Until you carelessly stole that money and left clues that a blind man could follow, and, of course, got what you were looking for. Twelve months, wasn't it—or was it two years? I've forgotten."
"You'd better forget the whole lot," answered Daw, with a threatening note in his voice. "You leave my past history alone, and I won't rake up yours. That stands, doesn't it? After this business I'm going straight."
"Straight?" Humbolt laughed. "Never in your life, Doctor. You got in here on forged references, and do you mean to say—"
"That I'm going to stay here? Certainly. Supposing we get the Star—no suspicion attaches to me. I'll just stay on; there'll be no question as to my honesty."
"Oh, won't there?" thought Jack. "Just you wait and see, that's all. There'll be quite a lot of question, if I know anything!"
"Well, don't let me keep you up any longer," said Humbolt in his usual cynical tone. "Where's this handbag?"
"Somewhere about. Have a look, will you? Probably under the bed, or somewhere. Never can remember where I put my things!"
Jack felt his blood run cold at the words. Under the bed! He glanced about him, and saw that the handbag was certainly not there. All the same, if they were to look, the fat would be in the fire with a vengeance! What the two would do to one who had obviously overheard their very compromising conversation, Jack did not dare to imagine. He wriggled back against the wall, praying that he would not be seen; but he realized that the chances of escaping notice were very slender indeed. For what seemed an age he heard the two of them walking about, and heard the noise of furniture moved; and still they did not come near the bed.