Benasco was seated on the floor like a child with a new scrapbook
Hugh came out of hiding, followed by Link. “The jig’s up, Mr. Benasco,” Hugh said. “How about returning our property?”
The old man was so preoccupied that he did not notice Hugh and Link immediately. “Dear, dear,” he purred, “what a beautiful set of Einstein memorial surcharges! I wonder if young Davone will break up the set? I have some of them.”
“He’s just a queer old guy,” Link remarked as the two of them strode up to him.
“Oh, hello, boys,” Mr. Benasco greeted them casually. “I was hoping I’d found a place where I wouldn’t be disturbed for awhile. I knew you’d come by my room. I hope you don’t mind the liberty I’ve taken with your stamps. But I did ask to see them and you refused, you know?”
Hugh took from him the portfolio he was holding. “How many stamps have you removed from here?” he demanded.
The man’s snowy brows went up in surprised indignation. “Removed?” he shrilled, his face coloring. “I’ve never been accused of stealing in my life, sir! I merely borrowed your collection to see if it has the items I need. When the explosion blew open your safe, it was simply a temptation I could not resist.”
“Those rare items you need cost money,” Hugh reminded him. “Lots of it.”
“Young man,” Mr. Benasco grunted, “you do not need to tell me of the value of postage stamps. I’m well acquainted with Scott’s catalogue. I have every intention of paying for my merchandise.” He pulled out such a wad of bills that Link gasped. “You see, I can pay.”
“What about that rocket pistol you’re carrying in your pocket, Mr. Benasco?” Link asked suspiciously. “Do you always go around armed?”