Under what bush? Where
was the place? Why was he there?--All this would have to be
stated as well. 'Don't you worry,' he said, 'there is plenty of
time to invent all that.'"
"But, Inspector," I said, "why are you badgering a respectable
young gentleman like Amulya Babu?"
"I have no desire to harass him," said the Inspector. "He is not
only a gentleman, but the son of Nibaran Babu, my school-fellow.
Let me tell you, Maharaja, exactly what must have happened.
Amulya knows the thief, but wants to shield him by drawing
suspicion on himself. That is just the sort of bravado he loves
to indulge in." The Inspector turned to Amulya. "Look here,
young man," he continued, "I also was eighteen once upon a time,
and a student in the Ripon College. I nearly got into gaol
trying to rescue a hack driver from a police constable. It was a
near shave." Then he turned again to me and said: "Maharaja, the
real thief will now probably escape, but I think I can tell you
who is at the bottom of it all."
"Who is it, then?" I asked.
"The manager, in collusion with the guard, Kasim."
When the Inspector, having argued out his theory to his own
satisfaction, at last departed, I said to Amulya: "If you will
tell me who took the money, I promise you no one shall be hurt.
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