"What's up?" he mumbled. "What's the matter now?"
"Look at the time," Eustace cried excitedly.
Harding pushed his hand under his pillow, raised himself on his arm and flung the pillow over.
"Where's my watch?" he exclaimed. "Where has it gone?"
"Don't you hear me say it is nearly ten o'clock? What on earth do you mean by sleeping to this hour when the bank ought to be open?"
Harding blinked at his pyjama-clad manager.
"You don't seem to have been up so very long," he grumbled. "But where's my jolly watch gone? I'll swear I put it under my pillow last night. Are you having a joke? Have you hidden it?"
"I have not touched your watch. I tell you it's ten o'clock and the bank——"
"Then someone has stolen it," Harding exclaimed as he sat up.
The pupils of Eustace's eyes contracted to pinpoints. With an inarticulate cry he dashed from the room and rushed to the stairs. He heard his wife call from the servant's room but paid no heed to the words.