“So you believe he was the highwayman, do you?” asked the jeweler with a look of amusement.
“He must ’a’ been.”
“Suppose you should find out he’s a good friend o’ mine—what then?”
“I—I don’t know,” stammered Artie. “I didn’t think o’ that. Is he?”
“I didn’t say he was—I don’t know,” laughed Smithers. “But your suspicion is so very improbable, I wanted to find out how certain you were of your evidence. I’m pretty well acquainted at Scotland Yard an’ happen to know they’re looking for keen, shrewd men all the time. I was going to recommend you for a job over there, but I’m afraid I can’t now. If my suggestion that this fellow might be a friend o’ mine hadn’t weakened you so, I’d take you over and have ’em give you a trial; but, as it is, I’m afraid you’re only a dreamer. A sharp rascal could bluff you too easy.”
Artie’s face showed evidence of his disappointment. He really had entertained fond ambition of becoming a detective, but now it seemed that all such hope must be cast aside. He had a serious weakness: He wasn’t sure of himself.
“Have you got a friend with a voice like this man’s?” inquired Artie with a suggestion of unsteadiness in his utterance and realizing as he spoke that he was continuing the weakness of which he had been accused.
“I don’t know what kind o’ voice he’s got,” replied Smithers sharply; “but that doesn’t make any difference. If your detective sense were of high order, you wouldn’t hesitate to make a positive charge against him even though you knew him to be my brother. I’m very sorry, my boy, for I was beginning to think I’d discovered a genius in you.”
“I’ll think it over an’ tell you tomorrow how certain I am,” announced Artie in as business-like manner as he could command. Then he arose from his chair and moved toward the door, fingering the hem of his coat nervously.
“Oh, my! no; that wouldn’t do any good,” advised Smithers, also rising. “The great secret of a successful life as a detective,”—speaking very impressively—“rests in knowing a thing beyond a doubt and of knowing immediately that you know it. Come an’ see me anytime—you’re always welcome—but forget that detective business. You’re a fine fellow, but as a sleuth I’m afraid you’d prove to be a false alarm.”