Once, when Uncle Rob went from the court to get a little fresh air, Detective Lambert came up and spoke to him.
"A long job," he said.
"A wickedly long job," responded Uncle Rob.
"I saw your nephew this morning," said Lambert, "sticking up the reward bills. He's the kind of chap that nothing comes amiss to; an all-round sort of chap; can turn his hand to anything. Just think of a young fellow like that turning bill-sticker. Not at all a bad move. It's a lumping reward, £500. Do you know what he said to me? 'Why not earn it?' says he, and says it as if he meant it."
"He wouldn't have said it if he hadn't meant it."
"Will it be paid?"
"If it's earned," replied Uncle Rob, "and I hope to God it soon will be!"
"Ah," said Lambert, and gave his brother officer a covert, sidelong look. "See here, Robson. We had a private talk together, and I made you a promise."
"Yes, you did," said Uncle Rob, and accustomed as he ought to have been, as an inspector of police, to strange surprises, there was a flutter at his heart. But then it was a beloved daughter's happiness that was at stake.
"I promised to give you timely notice," continued Lambert, "when something was going to happen."