"I don't hear you," the Chief roared. "Oh--yes? Yes, we've got the
thief, but the money--no, we haven't got the money. The deuce you say!
Took it yourself? Out of your wife's purse--yes.... Yes. But we've
got the--What? Don't remember where you--"
"Steady, Nance," whispered Obermuller, grabbing my other hand.
I tried to stand steady, but everything swayed and I couldn't hear the
rest of what the Chief was saying, though all my life seemed condensed
into a listening. But I did hear when he jammed the receiver on the
hook and faced us.
"Well, they've got the money. Ramsay took the purse himself, thinking
it wasn't safe there under the spread where any servant might be
tempted who chanced to uncover it. You'll admit the thing looked
shady. The reason Mrs. Ramsay didn't know of it is because the old
man's just come to his senses in a hospital and been notified that the
purse was missing."
"I want to apologize to you, Chief," I mumbled.
"For thinking me stupid? Oh, we were both--"
"No, for thinking me not stupid. I am stupid--stupid--stupid. The old
fellow I told you about, Mr. O., and the way I telephoned him out of
the flat that night--it was--"
"Ramsay!"