“Thanks, I’m afraid not,” Jimmy answered. “Perhaps I had better get my business done. I really came because Clay asked it; he made me promise to bring you something. I left it in the hall.”
Osborne rang a bell and a square package neatly sewed up in canvas was brought in. Jimmy placed it on the table as soon as they were alone, and began to cut the stitches.
“I don’t know whether you’ll be surprised or not,” he said, as he uncovered a strong wooden box which showed signs of having long been soaked in water.
“That!” exclaimed Osborne, dropping into the nearest chair. “Who found that box?”
“I did—in the steamer’s strong-room.”
Beads of perspiration stood on Osborne’s forehead, and he was breathing with difficulty.
“Do you know—what it contains?” he gasped.
“Yes,” Jimmy answered quietly. “It isn’t gold. Some of the stuff is still inside but I took the rest out to save weight.”
Osborne leaned back in his chair, limp from the shock.
“When did you find it?” he asked.