Mr. Brown entered the drawing-room.

"Mulroyd's had his house burgled now," he said. "Every bit of his
wife's jewellery gone. They've got some clues, though. It's a gang all
right, and one of them is a chap without ears. Grows his hair long to
hide it. But it's a clue. The police are hunting for him."

He looked in amazement at the horror-stricken faces before him. Mrs.
Brown sat down weakly.

"Ethel, my smelling salts! They're on the mantel-piece."

Robert grew pale.

"Good Lord--my silver cricket cup," he gasped, racing upstairs.

The landing window had been too small, and Mr. Blank too big, though
William did his best.

There came to the astounded listeners the sound of a fierce scuffle,
then Robert descended, his hair rumpled and his tie awry, holding
William by the arm. William looked pale and apprehensive. "He was
there," panted Robert, "just getting out of the window. He chucked the
things out of his pockets and got away. I couldn't stop him. And--and
William was there----"

William's face assumed the expression of one who is prepared for the
worst.