This announcement was the signal for a howl such as Templeton had rarely heard. The pent-up scorn of an afternoon broke out against the accuser as he stood there, pale and stupefied, staring at Webster.
It was all Mansfield could do to restore order. The gust had to blow itself more than half out before even he was heeded.
“Look here, you fellows,” said he, “don’t let us lose our heads. We want to hear the rights and wrongs of the case fairly. Hadn’t you better wait till that’s done before you turn the place into a bear-garden?”
The rebuke told, and the meeting relapsed into silence.
“You never told me that,” snarled Pledge. “You’ve been fooling me.”
“You never asked me. Mr Richardson knew; he was in the shop just after I found it.”
“Of course he was,” sneered Pledge.
“He needn’t have been, if that’s what you mean. He’d nothing to do with it. Bless you, it’s an old story now; I’d almost forgotten it.”
“You forgot, too, that you asked me to recover it for you; and you let me go on while all the time you had it.”
“You offered to get it back. I never asked you. You said you had an interest in the young gentlemen.”