Kate Vallon said she had not, while little Miss Cutler refused to answer questions about it.
Charley was equally taciturn, and Hutchins despaired of ever finding out anything.
But the very day after Nelson and Andrew Barham had visited the studio, Charley, who was tidying up, suddenly gave an exclamation.
“What’s doing?” ashed Glenn, who sat by, reading a paper.
“Nothing, sir,” and the Oriental’s face was a blank.
“You Chinese rascal, you’ve found something. Tell me what, or I’ll have the law on you!”
“Nothing, sir.”
And “nothing, sir,” was all Glenn could extract from the wily Charley. He watched him closely all day, but could get no inkling of the discovery he had made, if any.
The only effect it seemed to have was to make the Chinaman do some searching on his own account. Several times through the day, Charley sneaked into the studio or den or the bedroom, choosing opportunities when Glenn was elsewhere, and swiftly pulled out drawers, opened cupboards and rummaged in boxes.
When Glenn came upon him, he immediately looked as innocent as a cherub, and pretended to be emptying an ash tray or picking up papers.
“You’re a caution, Charley,” Glenn said. “I wish I could see into that carved ivory dome of yours.”
“Yes, sir,” said the imperturbable one.
That afternoon Charley dressed himself in street clothes and went forth on errands. Returning, he informed Glenn that he had been to pay the caterer’s bill and also the house agent’s rent.
Glenn looked at him, astonished.
“Where’d you get the money?” he asked.
