“What is your business?” he asked in a tone which he tried to make indifferent.
“That,” answered Woods, pointing to the jewel casket on the bureau.
It looked to him as if Wheeler, if that was his name, had been trying to open it.
“I don’t understand.”
“Then I will try to make things clear to you. You have, doubtless by accident” he emphasized the last word, “taken from the car a casket belonging to my young friend here.”
“You are mistaken, sir,” said Wheeler with brazen hardihood. “That casket belongs to me.”
“Indeed. What does it contain?”
“I fail to see how that is any of your business,” returned Wheeler, determined, if possible, to bluff off his visitors.
“I admire your cheek, sir. I really do. But I am too old a traveler to be taken in by such tricks. I propose to have that casket.”
“Well, sir, you are the most impudent thief and burglar I ever met. You break into a gentleman’s room, and undertake to carry off his private property. Unless you go out at once, I will have you arrested.”