Mr. George was very much surprised.
"The deuce you say!—Old Dick fallen at last."
The Chief gave a sort of sarcastic grunt.
"Ferguson can take care of himself. He's not as big a fool as he looks or pretends to be. Now these extra holidays of Miss Maitland's you've spoken of—how long has that been going on?"
"Since April. Before that she never wanted time off and often spent her Thursdays in the house. At Grasslands this summer she's gone into town every Thursday and three times asked for extra days. The last was July the eighth, the day after the robbery."
"Umph!" muttered the old man. "I guess we'll know something about that when we hear from O'Malley."
Mr. George, slumped down in his chair, with his hands thrust in his pockets, his chin pressed on his collar, said gloomily:
"I confess I'm dazed. It's perfectly possible that Chapman, who didn't like his wife, should have fallen in love with the girl, it's perfectly natural that they should have kept it dark; but that he's joined with her in a plan to steal Mrs. Janney's jewels!"—he shook his head staring in front of him—"I can't get the focus. Price wouldn't qualify for a Sunday school superintendent, but I can't seem to see him as a gentleman burglar."
"He was mad when he left," I said. "He made a sort of scene."
"What's that?" growled the old man, looking up quick.