“What do you want to butt in for?” demanded the commodore aggressively of the monocle-man.
“Mr. Bennett has accompanied me here as my prisoner. Am I not right?” Appealing to the hammer-thrower.
“Correct,” said that gentleman regretfully.
“What’s he been doing besides wrecking homes?” asked the commodore.
“A few articles of jewelry have been missing at Mrs. Ralston’s,” said the hammer-thrower in that same tone. “It’s a very regrettable affair. Miss Gerald, for example, lost her ring and it was traced to Mr. Bennett.”
Bob stood it patiently. He wondered if his day would ever come.
“So?— He’s the merry little social-highwayman, is he?” observed Dan. “The best I can say is, don’t make a hero of him. Give him some real, old-fashioned justice.”
“I’m afraid I can’t honestly extend my sympathy to you,” remarked Clarence to Bob stiffly.
“I’m not sorry,” said Dickie frankly. “I’m glad. Anyhow, Miss Dolly will despise you now.” With a ring of triumph in his voice.
“No, she won’t,” observed Bob, breaking silence for the first time. “It was being what people think I am that made her fall in love with me.” He didn’t want Dickie to feel too good. He remembered that unsportsmanlike punch. “She’s my dear jolly little pal,” Bob went on, “and she wanted to occupy an adjoining cell.”