"Am I to speak, sir? Very good. Then I will only say two things. Firstly, I was a very great fool to be taken in by Mr. Bullard's wire from Paris: I ought to have considered the chance of his having an assistant over there. Secondly, the man with the nose, sir, is Edwin Marvel, an uncommon bad egg, if I may say so, known to my master in the old days; and I am inclined to think that Mr. Bullard employed him to pinch—beg pardon, obtain—the Green Box, though I do not believe for a moment that Mr. Bullard trusted him far with it."
"You are convinced then that Bullard has the box now?" said Alan.
"If I hadn't been convinced before—which I was, Mr. Alan—Mr. France's remarks would have satisfied me. If I may ask, Mr. France, what do you think about it yourself?"
Poor Teddy! He would fain have abandoned concealment there and then, but all he sadly permitted himself to say was: "If Bullard hasn't got it, who has?" In the same breath he asked: "But why was the confounded thing not kept in a safe place?"
"By my uncle's orders it was kept in a drawer in that table. One might be pardoned for fancying that the whole affair is a sort of game—and rather a silly one at that," Alan said, a trifle irritably. "But for Caw's assurance to the contrary I'd refuse to believe that the box contained anything worth having. My uncle was not a fool, and yet—"
Caw, who could not endure hearing his late master's methods called in question, interrupted gently: "Pardon, sir, but possibly Mr. France might care to see where the box was kept."
"Show him, then."
The servant got up and went to the writing-table. "In this drawer," he began, stooping, and drew it open…. "Good God, Mr. Alan, the box is back!"
Alan jumped while Teddy sat down on the nearest seat.
Alan was first to speak. "What we want at once," said he, "is a locksmith."