“And be taken up by the police for stealing it,” he retorted. “How will you explain its being in your possession?”
I did not blanch.
“That is my affair,” I replied. “Will you give me three thousand francs for it? It is worth sixty thousand francs to a clever thief like you.”
“You hound!” he cried, livid with rage, and raised his cane as if he would strike me.
“Aye, it was cleverly done, M. Jean Duval, whoever you may be. I know that the gentleman-thief is a modern product of the old regime, but I did not know that the fraternity could show such a fine specimen as yourself. Pay Hector Ratichon a thousand francs for stealing a bracelet for you worth sixty! Indeed, M. Jean Duval, you deserved to succeed!”
Again he shook his cane at me.
“If you touch me,” I declared boldly, “I shall take the bracelet at once to Mlle. Mars.”
He bit his lip and made a great effort to pull himself together.
“I haven’t three thousand francs by me,” he said.
“Go, fetch the money,” I retorted, “and I’ll fetch the bracelet.”