The bunch went flying through the air, and with one quick snap of the hand Singh caught them and laid them down sharply on the dressing-table with a bang.
“I don’t like it,” he said angrily, for he was very tired. “You shouldn’t take my keys.”
“Yes, I should,” said Glyn quietly.
“I tell you you shouldn’t.”
“Then you oughtn’t to leave them stuck in your box, as if to invite all the servants to come and have a rummage, when you go out to a cricket-match.”
“I say, I didn’t do that, did I? I had them in my pocket just before I started.”
“If you did, how could I have them in mine when you came back?”
“Why, I—I am certain—” began Singh; and then, “Oh!”
“‘Oh,’ indeed!” cried Glyn. “But how did it happen?”
“I was just getting in the wagonette, when I thought it would be good fun to have one of those red Indian silk handkerchiefs to tie to a stump and use as a flag.”