"You may search me!" he interrupted. "I have nothing in the way of jewels
on me. My name is Joseph H. Bundercombe and I have a house in Prince's
Gardens. This is my son-in-law-to-be, Mr. Walmsley, M.P. for
Bedfordshire."
The manager bowed.
"I know you quite well, sir," he said, "and Mr. Walmsley, of course; both he and many of his relatives are valued clients of ours. But about the jewels?"
"What reward do you offer?"
"Five hundred pounds," was the prompt reply; "more, if necessary."
Mr. Bundercombe smiled approvingly.
"Circumstances," he explained, "of a peculiar nature, into which I am quite sure it will suit your purpose not to inquire, have enabled me to claim the reward and to restore to you the jewels."
The manager gripped him by the arm.
"Come into the office at once!" he begged.
We followed him into a little room at the back of the shop. He was trembling all over.