Clay’s expression became intent.
“Then you’re smarter than I thought and you played your hand well the last time I met you. However, it will probably save us all trouble if we put our cards on the table. What have you got?”
Bethune took out his notebook.
“To begin with, two bags of gold; the weight and marks, so far as we could make the latter out—”
“Shucks!” interrupted Clay. “They don’t count. You can keep your share of their salvage. Come to the point.”
“One iron-clamped, sealed case. The stencil marks, although partly obliterated, appear to be D.O.C. in a circle; the impress on the seals to attached tracing. Contents”—Bethune paused and looked steadily at Clay—“I dare say you know what these are?”
“Do you?” Clay asked sharply.
“We opened the case.”
There was silence for a few moments and all were very still. Clay’s voice was not so steady when he spoke again.
“Where is the case?”