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lance at the frump, but she was enjoying herself berating a fat girl she addressed as "Flora." He looked at me eloquently and whispered: "About his--h'm--stealing some black silk pajamas." My monocle dropped, and I almost did myself. "By Jove!" I gasped feebly. "Yes, sir." Wilkes looked up at the paneled ceiling and stroked his chin. "He mentioned that they found them--or _thought_ they found them in the bag he had with him." "But he's got them _on_, and they are his own," I managed to get out. Wilkes' face lightened understandingly. "Oh-h, I _see_, sir," he said, nodding with his jolly chin hanging; "so _that's_ how you got him off--I was a-wondering!" He looked at me, his fishy old eyes twinkling admiration. "Very neat, if I may say, sir--making, as it were, a sort of alibi--_very_ neat, indeed! Of course, when they puts 'em on him, they see for themselves they are his'n, and not any lady's what had been stolen--Oh, _I_ see!" Dash me, if _I_ did! The only thing I saw was that it must have been Jenkins that had telephoned and the message had been twisted. What he _had said_, of course, was that Billings had _almost_ been arrested. But the police finding the pajamas in his bag--I did not like that. Could it be that, after all, Billings _had_ found his sister's pajamas in the guest-room and had quietly confiscated them? It looked devilishly, ominously like it! Or perhaps he, himself, had recovered them from Foxy Grandpa, and with more delicacy than I thought him capable of, had kept the whole matter to himself. One thing only was certain: the sleuth hounds of the law, stimulated by the extravagant reward I had offered over the telephone, _had_ run down and recovered _her pajamas_. It was a relief that they were out of his hands, anyhow--_I_ could get them again, but _he_ couldn't. By Jove! Alone in my room, I stood before the mirror, hands in pockets and rocking on my toes--kind of smiling, you know--and thinking what a daredevil, reckless thing it had been--clever, too, dash it--in getting them away from old Jack, and right under his nose. By Jove, I felt a bit proud about it--sort of exultation, don't you know--and I had just got off a wink at myself, when Wilkes appeared again. "Pardon, sir, for disturbing you, but Mr. Billings is acting so queer, we are afraid to cross him; and he just insisted I take his message to you at once." "Message?" I repeated, sobering. "Yes, sir--something about some
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