"Your husband stole the wooden hand from the dead," said Foxy, with his usual snarl. "He took it home and opened it."
"I did not know it contained the diamonds," babbled Hill.
"No. You thought it contained a certain document," said Don, and produced a paper from his pocket, "a blue paper document, not very large--of such a size as might go into a wooden hand, provided the hand was hollow as it was. Is this it?"
Hill gave a scream and springing up bounded forward. "Give it to me--give it!' he cried.
"For the diamonds," said Father Don, putting the paper behind him.
"You shall have them. I hid them in this room--I don't want them, but that paper--it is mine."
"I know that--signed with your name, isn't it? Well, bring out the diamonds, and, when you hand them over----"
"You'll give me the paper?"
Foxy shook his head as Father Don looked inquiringly at him. "No, we must keep that paper, so as to get away--otherwise you'll be setting the police on our track."
"I swear I won't--I swear----" Hill dropped on his knees, "I swear----"