“Coom on,� he said, bringing out the cuffs.
“No, Mac!� Sir Richard snapped. “Not yet!
The smoked-glasses he threw away interest me—the trifle—lighter than air.â€�
Fay shrugged his narrow shoulders and advanced to the table. He waited for Sir Richard to speak.
“Describe them,� said the chief, leaning back. “What were those glasses like, Fay?�
“Ordinary! I saw nothing at all that would interest you in them. They were dark—almost opaque. They had cheap German-silver bows.â€�
“Where are they now?� Sir Richard’s voice held the grating edge of an inquisitor’s.
“They’re in the North Sea off the Holland coast. I’d say they went to the bottom in about thirty feet of water. I threw them off a cliff. She knows.� Fay turned toward Saidee Isaacs.
“He did, Sir Richard,� said the girl quickly. “He and I were together. We had rowed ashore from a sinking ship. I forget its name. Dutch Gus had the package and Chester took it from him. He sank the ship to get it.�
“Ah,â€� said the chief, “that was enterprise—at any rate. Now where on the Holland coast could I send a man to dive for the glasses?â€�