The son said angrily—"Who is he? How can he have taken the jewel case? Did he seize upon it? Have you come quietly away without seeking the aid of the police?"
"Did I not go to the police? I went to the police, but the Daroga of that thana is the husband of Bhudhar Chatterji's sister."
"Let him be her husband or her father. If you made a charge, he must write it in his diary and have a search made."
"He enter it in his diary? On the contrary he threatened me with jail for making a false charge."
In the same mess-house with Srinibash, in his student days, there had been a pupil studying law. From his talk Srinibash had learned something of legal matters. For a shilling he had bought a copy of "Mukhtear's Guide," and whenever there was a law-suit in the village, Srinibash usually advised one party or the other. He now said gravely to his father—"Tell me plainly what happened from first to last; let me see if I cannot find some remedy."
Then the old man began his narrative. I give the essence of it omitting the sighs, the tears, the useless whinings with which he dragged the tale through an hour of time.
Before dusk he had set out on his return journey, the boat being towed from the shore.
