“Don’t jaw so much!” an impatient and authoritative voice broke in, “but get down and let us see what you’ve found. Time’s precious!”
Jagger nearly overbalanced himself in his surprise.
“Who’ve you got with you?” he inquired suspiciously as he began the descent. For just a moment he thought it must be Inman himself, for the voice was half familiar, but when the detective replied, “You’ll know me when you see me. We’ve met before,” enlightenment came.
“It’s Mr. Harker!” he said. “This licks all!”
The bag was secured with string and Jagger struck a match whilst the officer untied it. But the sight of the contents was not really necessary to confirm what was already certain—that the missing gold was in their hands; and Mr. Harker tied it up again and pushed it along the table of rock towards Jagger.
“Now, listen to me,” he said. “You found the swag and you’ve got to deal with it exactly as you would have done if we hadn’t been here. I want to tell you what’ll happen. Stalker’ll arrest you and you’ll have to go with him!”
“Arrest me!” It was too dark to see the astonishment that spread over Jagger’s face; but it revealed itself in his voice.
“We’ve seen what you haven’t,” the detective proceeded quickly. “You haven’t been the only star on the stage. Inman’s been and caught you at the game; and it’s easy to guess what he hurried away for.”
“But why should he arrest me?” pursued Jagger, who had not anticipated any such untoward result of the enterprise. “I should hand t’ bag straight over to Stalker!”
“He’ll arrest you for having stolen property in your possession,” returned the officer, “and you’ll have to go down to Keepton; but you needn’t worry; you’ll have a front seat for the play, that’s all.”