“Brian, I cannot have her arrested.”
“Very well; then get my property from her. There are papers in that book worth a large sum to me. I’ve traveled half over the world and carried a pocket full of notes here, there, and everywhere, and never was robbed before.”
Stargarde suddenly became calm. “Sit down and let us talk it over.”
He gave utterance to his favorite exclamation, “Good—there’s considerable of the detective about you, Stargarde, and you’ve had experience with people of this stripe. Now what shall we do?”
She smiled feebly at him. “Where did you keep your pocket-book, Brian?”
He displayed a well of a pocket in his inside coat situated immediately over his brawny chest. “Impossible to fall out you see. Put your hand in.”
“Oh, I can see; do you always keep it there?”
“Always.”
“When did you have it last?”
“When I took it out to give you the check. I had the book half-way back into my pocket when the young lamb sprang upon me. You remember how she grabbed and dived at me—wanted to tear her way to my heart, I think. Probably she snatched the book and concealed it among her rags.”