THE BRASS BOWL
Snaith shook his head, baffled, infinitely perturbed, to Maitland's hidden delight.
"Of course," said he, "the policeman at the ferry recognized me?"
"You are well known to him," admitted Snaith. "But that is a side issue. What puzzles me is why you let Anisty escape. It is inconceivable."
"From a police point of view."
"From any point of view," said Snaith obstinately. "The man breaks into your house, steals your jewels"
"This is getting tiresome," Maitland interrupted curtly. "Is it possible that you suspect me of conniving at the theft of my own property?"
Snaith's eyes were keen upon him. "Stranger things have been known. And yet—the motive is lacking. You are not financially embarrassed,—so far as we can determine, at least."
Maitland politely interposed his fingers between his yawn and the detective's intent regard. "You have ten minutes more, I'm sorry to say," he said; glancing at the clock.
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