Page:Keeban (IA keeban00balm).pdf/100

 "Who?" I said.

"Jerry."

"He was alone?"

"Nobody else was seen. Apparently he went first to the sideboard in the dining room." Fred gazed across the hall. "He made a noise there."

When Fred stopped, I commented, "The papers say he made it intentionally."

Fred nodded. "He wasn't after silver. That was simply a bluff. He brought a bag with him and emptied two drawers into it. There it is."

A canvas sack, like a mail pouch, lay in the corner and bulged half full. I didn't bother to examine it. I was trying to figure out Fred's attitude towards me: he wasn't expressing much but keeping hold of himself pretty firm.

"Jerry made the rattle with the silver," Fred went on, "to draw father downstairs. He did it.

"As father appeared on the landing, Jerry fired from here—from beside this silk hanging. He fired twice; and neither before the shots nor between them nor afterwards did Jerry make any attempt to hide, in spite of the portière right there; and the light was on.