"Ob, what's the use? You got me! I came in through the window."
"Just so. Well, Bobby, 'tis the same old world, after all. Take a glance through the lad's pockets, will you? Something of interest might be there."
Catching the man's wrists he twisted them back and held the two easily in one hand. This time Trenmore's victim knew better than to struggle. He stood quiet while Drayton conducted the suggested search.
Viola wondered why the lawyer's face was suddenly so red. She had been told nothing of the episode at the house on Walnut Street; but Drayton had remembered, and the memory sickened him. The parallel to be drawn between this sneak thief and himself was not pleasant to contemplate.
His search was at first rewarded by nothing more interesting than a silk handkerchief, a plain gold watch, some loose change and a bunch of rather peculiar-looking keys. Then, while exploring the captive's right-hand coat pocket, Drayton came on a thing which could have shocked him no more had it been a coiled live rattlesnake.
"Why-why-" he stammered, extending it in a suddenly tremulous hand. "Look at this, Terry. Look at what I found in his pocket!"
"'Tis the Cerberus! The Cerberus vial itself!" The Irishman's voice was no more than awed whisper.
"Where did you get this?" Drayton uttered the demand so fiercely that the captive shrank back. "Where?" cried Drayton again, brandishing the vial as though intending to brain the man with it.
"Where did you get it?"
"Don't hit me! I ain't done nothing! I picked it up in street."