"Well, he was quite right. He is a friend of mine."
The inspector was more astonished than ever. "He came through one of the packing-room windows, Sir John," he expostulated, "and he had a boxful of cigars in his pocket."
"Not full, inspector," said the burglar, sadly. "I told you my friend would explain matters, but you wouldn't listen."
"Release him," said Sir John.
The inspector unlocked the handcuffs, saluted stiffly, turned his men round, and was marching off with them, when the burglar called out, "My cigars, please."
The inspector came back, handed the box over, saluted even more stiffly than before, and retired.
Sir John and the burglar watched the retreating escort out of sight.
"It's been a narrow squeak for both of us to-night," said the burglar reflectively.
"It has," replied Sir John.
Then they turned the corner together.