"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. "I'm afraid I can't, sir, beyond the fact that both of them wore raccoon motoring coats, and kept their collars pretty well turned up. You see I was far too much occupied with what they were saying to consider how they looked." "You could not identify them then?" "Not positively--no, I regret to say I couldn't. I might possibly recognize the hand or the voice of the big man." "The one who tried on the rings?" "Yes, sir." "But you could not pick him out from a group of others or identify him by photograph." "No, I couldn't." "That's a pity. In your work you should be more observing." "I know I should. I will be in the future." The inspector smiled grimly. "We all lock the gate after the cows are out of the pasture," commented he. "Well, if this is all you can offer, I'll try the boy. Your name, sonny." "Christopher Burton." "Christopher Mark Antony Burton, fourth," interrupted his father in an aggrieved tone. "Does all that belong to you?" asked the inspector, his eyes fixed on the lad's face with hawk-like scrutiny. "I'm afraid it does." "Afraid, Christopher!" Mr. Burton ejaculated. "Afraid! Why, it is a fine, honorable name. Your grandfather and your great-grandfather--" "Suppose we omit his grandfathers for the present," said the inspector, unceremoniously putting an end to Mr. Burton's dissertation. "So that's your name, is it?" "Yes, sir." "Why didn't you give the whole of it at the beginning?" "Oh, because there are such yards of it." The inspector grinned. "Now be good enough to tell us _your_ version of this affair. Relate exactly what you saw, heard, and did." "I'm afraid I didn't do much," protested Christopher sheepishly. "You might have done more and I won't deny I wish to goodness you had. However, you acted with considerable sense. You might have done worse--much worse."