He stood spellbound, staring about the apartment. Andy stared, too.
The room was in dire disorder. A cabinet had all its drawers out. The floor was littered with their former contents.
A stout tin box was overturned, its fastenings were all wrenched apart.
"Robbed!" gasped the man. "Ha, I see—you are a burglar," he continued, turning fiercely on the astonished youth.
"Not me," dissented Andy vigorously.
"Yes, you are. All my coins and curios gone! Why, you young thief—"
"Hold on," interrupted Andy, resisting the savage jerk of his captor. "Don't you abuse me till you know who I am. Yes, your place has been burglarized—I see that, now."
"Oh, do you?" sneered the man. "Thanks."
"Yes, sir. I saw two men come out of the cellar here an hour ago. I didn't understand then, but I do now."
"From the cellar? Well, we'll investigate the cellar."