The general waited for the slatternly maid-servant to give them their breakfast and leave the room before he spoke.
"We have been robbed," he said calmly, casually, as one would mention the weather. His tones implied that he was perfectly willing to listen to reason, but that he knew who the thief was and anything stated to the contrary was not reason.
"I spend my whole life, father," said Henrietta, "finding the articles you have been robbed of. Your system is all right. You have a place for everything, but you never remember the place."
The Watermelon pulled out the linings of his empty pockets and held out his wrists that they might see the cuffs tied together by a bit of string.
Henrietta and Billy stared.
"I have never had a thief in my room," cried Billy. "I would like to see how it feels."
"I'm not robbed," said Henrietta, making a hurried examination of the small-sized trunk she carried as a hand-bag.
"It's the stable-boy," said the general. "I noticed him carefully last night. He would not look any one in the face."
"He goes home every night," objected Henrietta. "Mrs. Parker told me so."
"That's no reason he couldn't come back," said the general.