“Well?”
“You have got me a good many odd numbers of the less base society papers.”
“I can’t for the life of me see what you’re driving at.”
Raffles smiled indulgently as he cracked another nut.
“That’s because you’ve neither observation nor imagination, Bunny—and yet you try to write! Well, you wouldn’t think it, but I have a fairly complete list of the people who were at the various functions under cover of which these different little coups were brought off.”
I said very stolidly that I did not see how that could help him. It was the only answer to his good-humored but self-satisfied contempt; it happened also to be true.
“Think,” said Raffles, in a patient voice.
“When thieves break in and steal,” said I, “upstairs, I don’t see much point in discovering who was downstairs at the time.”
“Quite,” said Raffles—“when they do break in.”
“But that’s what they have done in all these cases. An upstairs door found screwed up, when things were at their height below; thief gone and jewels with him before alarm could be raised. Why, the trick’s so old that I never knew you condescend to play it.”