Basil and Annette. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

If he had moved I would have knocked him on the head."

      "Have you got it?"

      "Yes, it is all right."

      "Pass it round."

      "No; I will keep it till it's sold; then we'll divide equally."

      "What do you think it's worth?"

      "Twenty pounds, I should say."

      "Little enough."

      "Hush!"

      The sound of Basil moving about his room, groping for the door, had reached them.

      "If he comes out, Jim, you tackle him."

      "Leave him to me. Don't waste any more time. Get the horse from the stable."

      Basil, unable to find the door, stumbled against the calico portion which divided his room from that in which Chaytor slept.

      "Who's there?" cried Chaytor, jumping up.

      "Oh, it's you," said Basil, recognising the voice. "Have you got a light?"

      "Wait a moment."

      But half dressed he represented himself to Basil, with a lighted candle in his hand.

      "What's up?" he asked.

      "I don't know," replied Basil, "but I am not easy in my mind. Perhaps it is only my fancy, but I have an idea that someone has been in my room."