“We'd better not waste any more time,” said his wife. “That boy might get out, you know, and give us trouble.”
“I don't believe he will get out in a hurry. I locked the door and he'd have to pound some time before he could make any one hear, I declare, I should like to see how he looked when he recovered from his stupor, and realized that his ring was gone.”
“What sort of boy was he, Tony?”
“Better not call me by that name, my dear. It might be heard, you know, and might not be considered in character. As to your question, he was by no means a stupid boy. Rather sharpish, I should say.”
“Then how came he to let you take him in?”
“As to that, I claim to be rather sharp myself, and quite a match even for a smart boy. I haven't knocked about the world forty-four years for nothing.”
They were now in Broadway. Turning the corner of Amity street, they walked a short distance downtown, and paused before the handsome jewelry store of Ball & Black.
“I think we had better go in here,” said Felix Montgomery—(I hesitate a little by which of his numerous names to call him).
“Why not go to Tiffany's?”
“I gather from what the boy told me that the ring has already been offered there. It would be very likely to be recognized and that would be awkward, you know.”