“Did you come here to steal?” I demanded.
“None of your business! Sit down in that chair, and don’t you dare to move until I tell you.”
And Carney emphasized his words with a shake of the pistol.
I sat down in the chair as directed, and the fisherman began a rapid search of the apartment. It was not long before he came across the hand-satchel Mr. Norton had carried when he arrived.
“Locked, eh?” he said, as he examined it. “Where is the key?”
“I haven’t it! It belongs to my uncle.”
“Your uncle! Where is he?”
“Just stepped out.”
“Glad you told me. I’ll get through before he returns.” Carney stepped to the mantel-shelf and took off a number of small things of value. “You are sure about that money?”
“I know I haven’t a dollar,” I returned.