“'Any of the waiters or the chambermaids?' asked Peter.
“I'd been expectin' he'd ask that, and I hated to answer.
“'One of the waiters was a little late,' says I. 'Willie wa'n't on hand immediate. Said he went to wash his hands.'
“Now the help gen'rally washed in the fo'castle—the servants' quarters, I mean—but there was a wash room on the floor where the Sterzer-Robinsons roomed. Peter looked at Jonadab, and the two of 'em at me. And I had to own up that Willie had come downstairs from that wash room a few minutes after the bell rung.
“'Hum!' says Peter T. 'Hum!' he says. 'Look here, Barzilla, didn't you tell me you knew that feller's real name, and that he had been studying law?'
“'No,' says I, emphatic. 'I said 'twas law he was tryin' to get away from. His tastes run large to literation and poetry.'
“'Hum!' says Peter again. 'All papers are more or less literary—even trust agreements. Hum!'
“'All the same,' says I, 'I'll bet my Sunday beaver that HE never took it.'
“They didn't answer, but looked solemn. Then the three of us went on watch.
“Nobody made a move to go out that evenin'. I kept whatever mail was handed in, but there was nothin' that looked like any agreements, and nothin' addressed to Gordon or his lawyers. At twelve or so, the detective come. Peter drove up to the depot to meet the special. He told the whole yarn on the way down.