But no burglar was discovered.
The services of Bruno, the faithful dog, were enlisted in this search, which, however, turned out to be fruitless.
The constables returned to the house. They were evidently deeply mortified at the escape of the robber, and could but ill conceal their vexation.
“He’s given us the slip,” said the inspector. “Got far away by this time, I’ve no doubt. It’s very annoying, but it can’t be helped.”
“I’m sure I am very sorry to have given you so much unnecessary trouble,” murmured Gatliffe. “The more so since I found it impossible to detain him. I wish you had come a little earlier.”
“We did not lose a moment after the young woman informed us of the affair. You take my advice,” remarked the inspector, addressing himself to Gatliffe, “the next time you collar a ‘cracksman,’ stick to him. Don’t let him slip through your fingers.”
“Mr. Gatliffe held him fast enough,” said the servant, in a tone of indignation. “He’s not the man to give in easily. He had a most desperate struggle with the burglar before I left; and had it not been for him and Bruno the house would have been well-nigh stripped.”
The inspector nodded his head in acquiescence of this last proposition.
“We will take the bag with us,” he observed, as he made his way to the drawing-room. “It may afford some clue to the robber.”
Upon entering the upstairs room, he discovered on the floor the “jemmy” with which Peace struck the dog. It had fallen out of his hand during his struggle with Gatliffe.