“Ah!” ejaculated Rob in a tone which made his sister shiver.
“Look here,” continued James Clareborough; “are you two going to show the white feather? Take the case fairly, Paddy. Suppose this had been at The Towers in the night, and we came upon a couple of scoundrels—with revolvers, mind!—carrying off the girls’ jewellery, would either of you have hesitated about firing?”
“I suppose not,” said Dennis, heavily, “but it seemed such cold-blooded work.”
“Been more cold-blooded if they had dropped us two. Now, then, no nonsense; let’s look the matter straight in the face. One thing is enough at a time. We can discuss Rob’s ideas of a dissolution of partnership later on,” was added, with a sneer. “Now, uncle; what about their coming? We had better have the old lady down.”
“No, let her be; she can tell you no more than I can. They must have asked for leave to come up as you were all away, and come straight here ready to pitch some tale, and your aunt unsuspectingly let them in. They must have set upon her, tied her fast, and carried her down.”
“Must, must, must!” cried James Clareborough, impatiently. “You were not here.”
“No, boy, but it tells its own tale. Arthur was dressed as if for a holiday, and the other fool too.”
“But what did it mean?” said Rob, hoarsely; “suspicion—an effort to find out—or robbery?”
“Robbery, my boy, for certain. They thought that they would get at the girls’ jewellery.”
“Yes, that’s it,” said James Clareborough, sharply; “an interrupted burglary. Curse them! They had all the professional tools. Well, they won’t want them any more.”