Part 5 (1/2)
”I guess I'm in for it,” Hollings whispered to Mr. Rhinehart.
”Nonsense! Tell the truth--that's all you've got to do.”
”But I was such a duffer!”
”I fumbled the ball, too, Mr. Hollings,” interrupted Christopher consolingly. ”Remember I didn't play a very brilliant game.”
”The game wasn't up to you, sonny,” Hollings returned. ”It was I. I did the foozling.”
Up they shot in the elevator.
The messenger in his uniform and b.u.t.tons went ahead and opened the door.
”Mr. Hollings is here, sir,” announced he. ”And Mr. Christopher and the detective, Mr. Waldron.”
As the three crossed the threshold and entered the office, Christopher saw Mr. Norcross and the inspector. A deep hush was upon the room. Not only did its occupants look grave--they looked severe--awesome. One glance and the lad did not wonder poor Hollings' knees knocked together.
Mr. Norcross was imposing enough, but the inspector was even worse; and as for the senior partner of the firm--well, he was Mr. Christopher Mark Antony Burton, third, arrayed in his most awful dignity. Even his son trembled before him.
CHAPTER IV
AN ENCOUNTER WITH THE POLICE
”And so, Hollings,” the great Mr. Burton began, ”while your back was turned, you have lost some of our valuable diamonds.”
”My back was not turned, sir,” objected Hollings. ”I merely looked away a minute.”
”Long enough to give a pair of thieves the opportunity to work.”
”It hardly seemed so.”
”But it was.”
”I'm afraid so, Mr. Burton. I am deeply sorry, sir; and yet had I it to do over again I hardly see--”
”It wasn't his fault, Dad--indeed it wasn't. I saw the whole thing, you know. It was done so fast you almost thought your eyes deceived you.”
”Oh, the men were experts. There can be no questions about that!” cut in the deep voice of the inspector. ”Now, Mr. Burton, instead of wasting time in reprimands, we've got to get down to facts. May I question these people?”
”Certainly, certainly!” Mr. Burton, however, seemed to be taken aback at being treated with such scant ceremony. ”This is Mr. Hollings, the clerk; and this lad is my son, Christopher.”
”Very good! Now, Mr. Hollings, suppose you tell your tale first. Relate exactly what happened--not what you thought or supposed. Stick to facts.”
”I will, sir.”
In a trembling voice Hollings began his story, and as he recounted it, Mr. Inspector jotted it down, merely pausing now and then to ask a curt question.
”Can you describe the men?” inquired he, when the narrative was finished.