"Let me recapitulate," he replied; and he ticked off his words with the bursting forefinger of one hand against the bursting forefinger of the other. "Three months ago you gave me your clue. I followed it up. I tracked Jones, alias Martin, alias Smith, alias Lancaster, from Persia Street to New York, from New York to Chicago, from Chicago to San Francisco,—lost him there,—by a regular jumped-up miracle stumbled on his tracks again of fifteen years later, then burst into a regular mine, a regular mine. Madam, I have the honour to inform you that you have laid this great American nation under a debt of gratitude," and, getting up with difficulty, he made her what he considered to be a very profound and gentlemanly bow.
It was lost on Chelda. She was ineffably disgusted with him, and took small pains to hide her disgust.
H. Robinson assumed an injured air. For her sake he was trying to restrain himself, for her sake he was courting dangers of suffocation and strangulation from the retention of his great and sensational discovery, and he was appreciated not in the slightest degree. He would try again to overawe her.
"You put me on the scent of a gambler," he said, tragically; "I have run into the biggest bank-breaker in the world. We've done what all the police forces in the Union couldn't do."
Still Chelda was not impressed. She was startled, slightly startled, and increasingly annoyed. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Look here," he said, and he whipped out some papers and spread them on his fat knees. "Look,—'Rewards Offered,'—'Descriptions Given'—'Cut of Gentleman George in beard and whiskers.'"
"Is that his name?" she asked, and her mind went back to the book of criminal records.
"Yes, ma'am. You've read of him, of course. All the world knows him,—the civilised world, of course. I don't see why he didn't take to China. I should think some big hauls might be made there," and he became thoughtful until roused by a peremptory question from Chelda.
"Yes, ma'am, it's sure enough. Your man is Gentleman George, and when we catch him, if you care anything for getting before the public, you'll figure in the daily press from Maine to Texas."
Chelda's lip curled. It was not worth while to argue. Not all the tongues of men and angels could make this man understand the inherent differences between her nature and his. He would revel in notoriety, she would loathe it.