In another minute they all heard what his sharper ears had been the first to notice.
Footsteps coming along the terrace outside.
They rang out clearly with no kind of subterfuge about them. In another minute the window was blocked by a bulky figure which stood there regarding them and who conveyed, in an odd way, a sense of dominating the situation.
Sir Oswald, for it was he, looked slowly from one face to another. His keen eyes took in the details of the situation. Jimmy, with his roughly bandaged arm; Bundle, in her somewhat anomalous attire; Loraine, a perfect stranger to him. His eyes came last to Superintendent Battle. He spoke sharply and crisply:
“What’s been happening here, officer?”
“Attempted robbery, sir.”
“ Attempted —eh?”
“Thanks to this young lady, Miss Wade, the thieves failed to get away with it.”
“Ah!” he said again, his scrutiny ended. “And now, officer, what about this ?”
He held out a small Mauser pistol which he carried delicately by the butt.
“Where did you find that, Sir Oswald?”
“On the lawn outside. I presume it must have been thrown down by one of the thieves as he took to his heels. I’ve held it carefully, as I thought you might wish to examine it for fingerprints.”
“You think of everything, Sir Oswald,” said Battle.