"
Libbie squawked outright in terror, and the others fell back a step.
A little man with very black eyes stood facing them, and at them he
was leveling a small, businesslike looking revolver. The door had
closed noiselessly, and he had evidently been behind it.
"I saw you all to enter," he informed them sternly. "I, of all in
the building, remembered that it is in excitement that sneak thieves
do their best work. Mr. Matthews is trusting, but I--I stood on
guard. It is well. You are not to move while I telephone to the
police."
"Look here," said Bob determinedly, almost overwhelmed with his
responsibility and blaming himself for having placed the girls in
such an awkward position. "We're no thieves. You can telephone
upstairs to Mr. Derby and he'll vouch for us."
"I know no Mr. Derby," said the little man stubbornly. "Why should
you pick out a jeweler's office and creep in through the window?
Answer me that! Are there not stairs?"
"Well we wanted to avoid some--er--men," blurted Bob.
"Yah--already the police seek you!" triumphed their captor. "Well,
they will not have long to seek."
"They were not the police." Betty found her voice and spoke
earnestly. "They were reporters, and we didn't want to be
interviewed.
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