“I haven’t got it.”
“Young man,” said the detective sternly, “I advise you not to throw any obstacles in my way. It may do you harm.”
“But,” said Bernard earnestly, “I am speaking the truth. The owner of the portmanteau no doubt has the key, but he didn’t give it to me.”
“The owner? Isn’t it yours?”
“No, sir.”
“Whose is it, then?”
“It belongs to a young man in an ulster, who handed it to me for safe keeping.”
“Where is the young man?” asked the detective searchingly.
“He got off at Newburg.”
“Leaving the portmanteau with you?”