“No,” she said calmly. “I was thinking of the two thousand five hundred pounds in gold that you told me had been stolen.”
He paused.
“This is really very clever of you,” he said. “But why should they throw it into the river.”
“Well,” she said, “it’s high tide, or rather it was, about an hour and a half ago. They might have sunk the money, intending to recover it at their leisure during the night when the tide sank.”
“Yes, I must repeat,” he said; “this is really very clever of you.”
They were already beginning to descend the broadest of the three paths which led from the level of the gardens to the level of the river, and the wheelmarks of an automobile were clearly visible thereon, when Carpentaria halted.
“Suppose,” he whispered, “they are there now?”
“Who? Mr. Jetsam and my sister?”
“No, not your sister. Mr. Jetsam and his—other accomplices—whoever they may be. I do not imagine that your sister has been concerned in the actual—er—affair. Indeed, she was at home with you at the time. But if Jetsam, for instance, should be down there now, alone or with others, there might be a row on my appearance. I will therefore ask you to stay where you are, Miss Dartmouth.”
She shook her head.