“I’ve just thought of something. What a joke! Suppose we took the Chief Constable’s tip and engineered a sham robbery to-morrow night? Priceless, what? Carry it through in real good style. Make Maurice sit up for a day or two, eh? Do his liver good if he’d something to worry about.”
Cecil’s face showed indecision.
“I shouldn’t mind giving Maurice a twinge or two just to teach him manners,” he confessed. “But I don’t see much in the notion as it stands, Foxy. Maurice is posting a keeper in the museum, you know; and that complicates things a bit. The keeper would spot any of us tampering with things. He knows us all as well as his own brother.”
“Not in fancy dress, with a mask on, dear boy. Don’t forget that part of it.
‘Fancy me in fancy dress,
Fancy me as Good Queen Bess!’ ”
he hummed softly. “Only I don’t think I’ll come as Good Queen Bess, after all.”
Cecil knitted his brows slightly and seemed to be considering Foxy’s idea.
“I wouldn’t mind giving Maurice a start,” he admitted half-reluctantly. “And your notion might be good enough if one could work it out properly. Question is, can you? Suppose you suddenly make a grab for some of the stuff. The keeper’ll be down on you like a shot. He’ll yell for help; and you’ll be pinched for a cert. before you could get away. There doesn’t seem to be anything in it, Foxy.”
“Hold on for a minute. I’ll see my way through it.”
Foxy took a cigarette, lighted it, and seemed to cogitate deeply over the first few puffs.