"Good morning," he said, "I accidentally overheard Mrs. Barbour's lament, in passing, and I think I can throw some light on this matter," then went on to tell of what he had seen and heard the previous evening.
"So you see, Nancy, we weren't robbed in our sleep after all," was Mr. Barbour's comment, addressed to his wife.
"No thanks to you, anyhow," she retorted; "and it's your fault all the same; because I wouldn't have gone out and left the house alone if I'd had my way."
Mr. Barbour subsided. Why could he not learn how utterly useless it was to attempt to justify himself under the accusations of his wife?
"And there you sit never moving hand or foot to find the thief and get your own out of his clutches!" she whined, moving about with disconsolate and martyrlike air at her work of preparing the morning meal.
"Well, well, I'll go and see what can be done," he said, rising and putting on his hat. "Doctor, would you recognize the thief?"
"I am quite sure I should know again the suspicious looking persons I have been telling you of," Kenneth answered as they stepped out together.
"Now don't be gone all day, Mr. Barbour; breakfast will be on the table in half an hour," his wife called after him.
"Very well," he said looking back, "am I to let the thief escape rather than keep you waiting for an hour?"
"Of course you'll do one or the other—probably both," she fretted, as he walked on without waiting for an answer, "though it needn't take half that time to scour this wretched little town from end to end."