“Not here?” There was startled amazement in Darcy’s question.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t be here.  You’d better come with us.  You’ll have to, in fact.  The captain’ll want to have a talk with you, and I guess the prosecutor the same.  How about it, Jim?” and he looked over at Haliday, from the Court House.  He was examining the side door leading to the alley.

“Oh, sure! he’ll have to be held—­as a witness, anyhow,” was the easy answer, and in the same breath he added:  “Not a mark!  Not a scratch on the place!  It was an inside job all right!”

“Held?  I’ll have to be—­held?” faltered Darcy.

“Of course,” said Thong.  “And, while you’re at it, take a friend’s advice, and keep your mouth shut.”

“You mean anything I say might—­might be used—­against me?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t put it that way exactly.  That’s moving picture stuff—­theater business, you know.  We don’t go in for that—­not me and Carroll.  But don’t talk too much.  Of course you’ll have to answer a lot of questions, and the easier you do the better for you.  But wait until they’re asked.  Maybe it’s against my interests to say that, but I’ve sort of took a notion to you.  Now you’d better get ready to leave.”

“You mean lock the place up?”

“Oh, no, somebody’ll have to stay here.”

“Not me!” interrupted Mulligan.  “I haven’t had my breakfast.  I was jest comin’ in off dog-watch when I happened to see what was goin’ on here—­the crowd an’ everythin’.  I ain’t goin’ to stay!”

“Well, ’phone in then and get somebody,” advised Carroll testily.  “Somebody’s got to be here until we can look around more.”

“I’ll stay for a while.” said Haliday.  “I’d like to look about a bit myself.  I’ll probably have to get the case ready for the prosecutor.”

“Well, let’s be going then,” suggested Thong.  “Shall I ring for the wagon?”

His partner shook his head after a look at Darcy.

“The trolley’ll be all right for him,” he said in a whisper.  “We can get out the back way and avoid the crowd,” for the street in front of the jewelry store was still thronged, in spite of the ever increasing rain.  “As for King, he’s asleep, and I guess we can put him to bed here.  If we try to carry him out there’ll be more of a push than there is now.  Let him sleep it off,” and he glanced at a huddled figure in a corner chair.

“Who’s asleep?” broke in the thick voice of the wastral.  “Whash matter you fellers, anyhow?  Man comes in get li’l preshent for his wife—­wife sits up all night waitin’—­she’s ’titled to li’l preshent.  Wheresh my gold knife, Darcy?  I give it to you—­have ’grave—­Pearl’s name—­wheresh my knife?”

“You can have it pretty soon,” promised Thong.  “Look here, Harry, my boy.  You’re pretty drunk, for a fact, but do you happen to know where you were and what you did last night—­and early this morning?  Try to think—­it may mean a lot to you!” and he spoke earnestly.  “Where were you—­what did you do?”