“But, oh, sir,” cried Glyn, “you don’t think—”
“My dear boy, no,” replied the Doctor, with a look which made Glyn eagerly take out his keys, rapidly unlock every drawer, and then turn to Singh with a keen, angry look upon his countenance, which was now growing hard; and as he pointed towards the drawers he uttered hoarsely the one word, “Look.”
“No,” said the Doctor gravely. “Examine the drawers yourself, Severn. You feel now that it is impossible that you can have done this thing. Possibly, perhaps, after coming into the room alone and finding that your companion had left his own keys in his box—”
“I did find them like that, sir, twice.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor, “and changed the locale of the missing belt.”
“No, sir,” said Glyn. “I only took the keys out after seeing that the trunk was locked, and gave them to Singh.”
“Each time?” said the Doctor. “Tax your memory. Are you sure of that?”
“Quite, sir. Certain. I wouldn’t have taken the thing out. I hated his having it here.”
“But tell me this,” said the Doctor; “the last time you found the keys hanging in the lock, did you look in to see if the case was there?”
Glyn shook his head.