“First place,” he began in a quizzical voice, “Mister detective, you have an easy job before you, for you must know Fantômas is in gaol.”
“Why, yes, that’s true enough,” admitted Mr. Van Buren.
“Still, as Mr. Tom Bob is so clever, it’s to be hoped he’ll meet him all the same and finish by arresting his man.”
... “Egad! it’s deuced extraordinary,” suddenly exclaimed Ascott, “here’s a go, I can’t find my pocketbook.”
Tom Bob gave a start.
“Look carefully, sir, look again; what you say is really serious, you must make sure.”
With a pale face Ascott searched through all his pockets—everywhere.
“No, there’s no doubt whatever, my pocket-book has disappeared; it’s not that I had a great deal of money in it, but the thing is very unpleasant.”
Tom Bob lit a cigarette with a nonchalant air.
“Now that it’s known for sure your pocket-book has disappeared, the only thing left to do is to get it back; that’s not very difficult perhaps.”