Part 7 (1/2)
”To land the jewels, you mean? I can't tell you that, sir. It's too early in the game.”
”I suppose so. It was a foolish question.”
Evidently the inspector was of the same opinion, for he made no answer.
”Well, that's all, Hollings,” announced the great man, turning to his clerk. ”You may go now.”
”I hope and pray the ring may be recovered, sir. I shall not have a happy moment until it is.”
”All that must rest with the police. The case is in their keeping now,”
was his employer's terse reply.
In the meantime, Mr. Norcross had not said anything at all. He seldom did say anything. But as the group rose to depart, he dragged himself up out of his chair and, as if giving his blessing to the enterprise, remarked:
”Good luck to you, Inspector!”
”Thank you, sir.”
Then Christopher, his father and the Chief entered the elevator and afterward the car that took them to headquarters.
Here the boy had displayed before him an array of photographs from which he had not the slightest trouble in picking that of the man with the scar; but his sharp-nosed companion he was unable to identify.
”I thought I'd recognize him anywhere,” lamented Christopher. ”His hair was so black and thick that--”
At the words, the inspector jumped a little.
”Ha!” exclaimed he. ”Tony wore a wig, did he?” He opened a drawer. ”Any of these look like him?”
He pa.s.sed to Christopher a handful of pictures.
”There he is,” cried the lad presently, choosing one out of the lot.
”There he is! Only he didn't have his gla.s.ses on.”
”I fancy he isn't dependent on them all the time,” chuckled the inspector. ”Well done, my boy. Yes, that's Tony when he's dressed up.
The reason you didn't recognize him was because in the other picture he wasn't. Clothes do not make the man, but wigs, gla.s.ses, and things change him a good deal. That's all, gentlemen. I now have all the information I wish, and need not detain you.”
”I suppose I shall be notified when any news is obtained,” said Mr.
Burton, rising. He wasn't used to being dismissed in this curt fas.h.i.+on.
When any dismissing was to be done, it was usually he who did it.
”Yes, sir. As soon as anything definite is known. _Good_ morning!” But to Christopher he reached out a detaining hand. ”You've done uncommonly well, sonny,” he whispered. ”Don't worry because you didn't land the chaps. I'm only thankful you didn't give them the chance to shoot you.
We'll have the birdies yet.”
”Shall I have to go to court?”
”Court? Perhaps. But, Lord! A boy that can tell as straight a story as you needn't fear that. It's not half as bad as being stood up to face me.”