“What makes you think that?”
Alcatrante bit his lip. “Why,” he stammered, “the detective reported that you were absent when he arrived.”
“And therefore,” remarked Orme coolly, “he got access to my apartment and, after rummaging through my things, went sound asleep in my bedroom, where I found him snoring when I returned.”
The minister swung his cane viciously at a bit of paper that lay on the sidewalk.
“He was not a clever detective,” continued Orme. “And as for Poritol, don’t you think he had better offer his reward to the Japanese?”
“No,” replied Alcatrante. “They may have stolen the clue from you, but I have reason to think that the papers were already gone when they went to look for them. Poritol is really very anxious.”
“Doubtless,” said Orme.
“Perhaps,” added Alcatrante, after a short wait, “he might even go as high as two thousand.”
“Indeed? Then there will surely be many answers to his advertisement.”
“Oh, he will not advertise.” Alcatrante laughed. “Already he knows where the papers are. While waiting for the clue of the bill, he discovered what others had already availed themselves of it.”