“Burgle you? Who was?”
“Why, that—oh, just a couple of chaps. I ’it out at ’em, and they closed with me. In the end,” concluded Mr. Tridge, modestly, “they was both glad enough to jump out of the window.”
“Well, well!” breathed Mr. Sinnett.
Mr. Tridge smiled, and then broke into chuckles.
“It’s rather a joke,” he said. “I don’t mind telling you something, if you promise you won’t repeat it.”
“Oh, I promise!” cried Mr. Sinnett, readily.
“Well, they was after something that wasn’t there at all! Mind you, they thought it was! It was something I’d ’ad for a long time, and they was very anxious to get it. Many and many a try they’d ’ad for it. But I wouldn’t let ’em ’ave it. The first scrap last night—that was one of their hattempts. Any one might think it worth ’undreds of pounds, the way they keeps on trying. But it ain’t.”
“Isn’t it?” asked Mr. Sinnett, in strained tones.
“Only as a curiosity. It’s vallyble, far as that goes. Anyway, I ’ad no difficulty in getting twelve quid for it last night.”
“You—you’ve sold it?” cried Mr. Sinnett.