Travers Gladwin shrugged his shoulders and said easily:
“Considering the number of policemen on the job, does it not also take on the aspect of a slip-up? It would make rather amusing reading in the newspapers, but if you prefer, gentlemen, we can let the matter drop right here.”
Captain Stone and Kearney looked at each other and found no comfort in each other’s countenances.
“Even though he got away with one hundred thousand dollars’ worth of my paintings, slipping out from under your very noses,” Gladwin pressed his advantage, “I may, for the sake of avoiding notoriety, decide that it is best to keep the thing quiet. Of course, it is in your power to compel publicity.”
“Not against your wishes, sir,” said Captain Stone, meekly.
“And you, Mr. Kearney,” smiled the young man, looking up into the frowning visage of the much advertised Central Office man.
“Captain Stone is my superior officer,” said Kearney shortly, through compressed lips.
“Very well, then, Captain,” Gladwin ran on, “we will just drop the incident from our minds. You will oblige me by calling off your men at once.”
Captain Stone bowed and left the room, followed by Kearney.