“Do they really?” he drawled. “You amaze me, Officer. I’ve always supposed they broke in somehow and used dark lanterns.”
“Not always,” said Gladwin, obstinately.
The big man shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, puffed his cigar for a moment and said indulgently:
“Well, I’m sorry, Officer, to deprive you of the pleasure you would evidently derive in catching a thief and making an arrest. Now,” with a light laugh, “who might you imagine I was?”
“Well, if I wasn’t sure Mr. Gladwin was across the Atlantic I’d imagine that yez were Mr. Gladwin himself.”
This was said with such laborious canniness that the thief made haste to discover just how the land lay.
“Oh, so you’re sure Mr. Gladwin is abroad, eh?”
“Well, I see be the papers.”
A real hearty laugh escaped this time, and he added brightly:
“Well, Mr. Policeman, I’ll tell you something to help you make a good shrewd guess––Mr. Gladwin is not abroad!”