“Would you like to catch the thief?” the picture expert asked him.
“Ees, sair.”
Bateato looked at his master, who nodded reassuringly.
“Well, the thief is in your master’s room,” said Wilson, impressively. “Go up there and bang on the door––take that poker out of the fireplace and make all the noise you can. Do you understand me?”
“Ees, sair,” and Bateato’s long lost grin returned. “I make bang, bang.”
“Yes, and yell, ‘Police––quick, quick, quick––catch thief.’”
“Ees, sair, big much pleece come and tief run. Bateato run too and pleece find all empty.”
“Good––hurry!” and Wilson gave the Jap an unnecessary push toward the fireplace, for the little Oriental fairly flew on his errand.
A moment later there burst upon the stillness of the mansion a frightful uproar. The noise was distinctly audible in the street, as Wilson had slipped to the door and opened it, then concealed himself behind a curtain.