Chimp’s nerves had recovered a little of their tone. His agile brain was stirring once more. “You can’t do anything,” he said. “It wasn’t breaking and entering. I live here. I know the law.” “Never mind about that. What were you up to?” “Looking for something,” said Chimp sullenly. “And it wasn’t there.” “Did you know Finglass?” asked Sam keenly. Chimp gave a short laugh of intense bitterness. “I thought I did. But I didn’t know he was so fond of a joke.” “Bradder,” said Sam urgently, “a crook named Finglass used to live in this house, and he buried a lot of his swag somewhere in it.” “Good gosh!” exclaimed Mr. Braddock. “You don’t say so!” “Did this fellow take anything from under the floor?” “You bet your sweet life I didn’t,” said Chimp with feeling. “It wasn’t there. You seem to know all about it, so I don’t mind telling you that Finky wrote me that the stuff was under the third board from the window in this room. Whether he was off his damned head or was just stringing me, I don’t know. But I do know it isn’t there. And now I’m going.” “Oh, no, you aren’t, by Jove!” said Mr. Braddock. “Oh, let him go,” said Sam wearily. “What’s the use of keeping him hanging round?” He turned to Chimp. His own disappointment was so keen that he could almost sympathise with him. “So you think Finglass really got away with the stuff, after all?” “Looks like it.” “Then why on earth did he write to you?” Chimp shrugged his shoulders. “Off his nut, I guess. He always was a loony sort of bird, outside of business.” “You don’t think the other chap found the stuff, Sam?” suggested Mr. Braddock. Sam shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s much more likely it was never here at all. We had a friend of yours here this evening,” he said to Chimp. “At least, I suppose he was a friend of yours. Thomas G. Gunn he called himself.” “I know who you mean--that poor dumb brick, Soapy. He wouldn’t have found anything. If it isn’t here it isn’t anywhere. And now I’m going.” Mr. Braddock eyed him a little wistfully as he slouched through the doorway. It was galling to see the only burglar he had ever caught walking out as if he had finished paying a friendly call. However, he supposed there was nothing to be done about it. Sam had gone to the window and was leaning out, looking into the night. “I must go and see Kay,” he said at length, turning. “I must get up to town,” said Mr. Braddock. “By Jove, I shall be most frightfully late if I don’t rush. I’m dining with my Aunt Julia.” “This is going to be bad news for her.” “Oh, no, she’ll be most awfully interested. She’s a very sporting old party.” “What the devil are you talking about?” “My Aunt Julia.” “Oh? Well, good-bye.”