"I find you in the act of stealing my wife's necklace—"
"Would there be any use in telling you that I was not stealing it, but putting it back?"
Sir Thomas raised his eyebrows in silence.
"No?" said Jimmy. "I was afraid not. You were saying—?"
"I find you in the act of stealing my wife's necklace," proceeded Sir Thomas, "and, because for the moment you succeed in postponing arrest by threatening me with a revolver—"
An agitated look came into Jimmy's face.
"Great Scott!" he cried. He felt hastily in his pocket.
"Yes," he said; "as I had begun to fear. I owe you an apology, Sir Thomas," he went on with manly dignity, producing the briar, "I am entirely to blame. How the mistake arose I cannot imagine, but I find it isn't a revolver after all."
Sir Thomas' cheeks took on a richer tint of purple. He glared dumbly at the pipe.
"In the excitement of the moment, I guess—" began Jimmy.