"The old gentleman's pocketbook," I groaned; "they've got it!"
Eve for a moment sat quite still; she, too, seemed nervous. I was looking
away again at the retreating figures of Mr. Parker and Mr. Moss. Suddenly
my heart sank. I saw the old gentleman spring to his feet and hurry after
them; and I saw, too, at the end of the line of stalls, Mr. Cullen and a
companion standing, waiting. I rose quickly to my feet.
"I'm afraid there's going to be some trouble," I said to Eve. "Let me go
and see if I can help. It looks as though the whole thing were a trap."
I followed quickly. It is only fair to Mr. Cullen to say that he conducted
the affair with great discretion and with every consideration for the
feelings of the management. He stopped Mr. Parker and Mr. Moss as they
reached the end of the line of stalls.
"Please come with me," he said. "I have something to say to you outside."
Mr. Moss showed signs of an attempt to escape. He stooped for a minute as
though to run, but a kick from Mr. Parker induced him to alter his mind.
"Wotcher want?" he asked belligerently.
The old gentleman had now reached them, red-faced and incoherent. He
addressed himself to Mr. Cullen, and I no longer had any doubt whatever
that the affair was a plant of the detective.
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