“Yes, when I was here before, and there he is now, only he’s got a policeman’s uniform on.”
Mrs. Burton pointed an accusing finger at Michael Phelan, who proceeded to turn livid.
“You saw that man here before?” asked the wondering captain.
“Yes. He was in his shirt sleeves and when he saw me he ran away to hide.”
“Are you sure about this?” asked Captain Stone slowly, turning and scowling at the condemned Phelan.
“I should say I am,” declared the relentless Mrs. Burton. “How could I ever forget that face?”
“C-c-c-captain, I-I-I w-w-want to explain”––chattered Phelan.
“There’ll be time enough for that,” the captain 271 checked him. “For the present you camp right here in this room. Don’t you budge an inch from it. That thief is somewhere in this house and we’ve got to find him.”
“Give me my niece first,” cried Mrs. Burton.
Captain Stone ignored the request and shouted to Kearney and the three men who had followed him into the room: