By this time Monty understood what was required of him. He took the pouch respectfully and crossed toward the stairs. “I’ll leave it in the drawer,” he called out as he ascended the stairs.
Michael had been looking through the glass doors with a pair of binoculars. “I see nothing,” he declared.
“But suppose they come back later, and break in here at night?” Alice cried.
“I shall organize the household servants and place Lambart at their head,” he said gravely. “He is an excellent shot. Then there are three able-bodied men here, so that we are prepared.”
“I’m sure you needn’t take any such elaborate precautions,” Denby told him. “No men, after once warning us, would break in here with so many servants. I imagine they were a couple of tramps who were attracted by Miss Rutledge’s rings and thought they could make a quick getaway.”
“This is a lesson to me to provide myself with a couple of Airedales,” Michael asserted. “Things are coming to a pretty pass when one invites one’s friends to come down to a week-end party and get robbed. It’s worse than a hotel on the Riviera.”
“Well, they didn’t get anything,” Nora cried. “You should have seen me run. I believe I flew, and I do believe I’ve lost weight!”
“But oughtn’t I to go out and see?” Michael asked a little weakly.
“Certainly not,” Alice commanded him firmly. “I can imagine nothing more useless than a dead husband.”
He took her hand affectionately. “How right you are,” he murmured gratefully. “I think, though, I ought to ask the police to keep a sharp watch.”