“You jump at conclusions, doctor,” said the Hawk patiently. “Since it is already stolen, I——”
“Stolen!” The Frenchman stared—and then with feverish fingers opened the bag. He looked inside. The bag dropped to the floor, his hands went up in the air. “It is empty—empty!” he cried distractedly. “It is gone—gone! Mon Dieu, my radium is gone! What shall I do!” His hands were rumpling through his hair like one demented. “What shall I do—it is gone!”
“Well,” suggested the Hawk suavely, “I thought perhaps you might like to buy it back again.”
“Buy it back! Are you crazy? Am I crazy?” The man appeared to be beside himself; he flung out his arms in mad gesticulation. “With what would I buy it back? It is worth a hundred thousands dollars—a half million francs!”
“You are excited, Doctor Meunier,” said the Hawk calmly. From where it bulged under his coat he drew out the black bag. “I said nothing about a hundred thousand dollars.”
The Frenchman reached out a shaking hand, pointing at the bag.
“It is you then, after all, who stole it—eh? The bags—they are identical! Mon Dieu, what does this mean? I am mad! I do not understand!”
There was a chair on each side of the small table near the bed.
“Sit down!” invited the Hawk, indicating one with the muzzle of his automatic. The Frenchman sat down with a helpless and abandoned gesture of despair. The Hawk took the other chair. He opened the bag, opened the lead box, and laid the lead capsule on the table. “Do you identify this?” he inquired pleasantly.
The Frenchman reached for it eagerly.