"Miss Thompson has the best reason in the world for knowing that," Grimes answered, and there was a note of cold menace in his voice.
"See here," retorted the young fellow. "I won't stand for this. Either you make good your words or——"
"Keep still, my friend. I'll make my words good." Then, turning to the bishop, "I beg your lordship to believe that I am not speaking lightly." He drew from his pocket a brown leather purse clasped by an elastic band. "Does your lordship recognize this?"
"Bless my soul! My purse!" exclaimed the bishop. "Where did you find it?"
"With your lordship's permission I'll explain that—a little later."
Old Bunchester coughed impressively. "And the money?" he asked. "The five thousand pounds? Is it—in the purse?"
The detective shook his head. "Not a penny of it. The purse is empty. There!" He handed the lean wallet to its owner.
"Quite true," sighed the bishop. "It is empty."
"Do I understand that you found this purse somewhere about here—I mean about this house?" demanded Bob.
"Yes," said the detective.