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Vance, Louis Joseph, 1879-1933

"The Brass Bowl"


Higgins pulled up, thunderstruck, panting and perspiring with
agitation. His fat cheeks quivered like the wattles of a gobbler,
and his eyes bulged as, by degrees, he became alive to the
situation.
Maitland began to explain, forestalling the embarrassments of
cross-examination.
"By the merest accident, Higgins, I was passing in my car with a
party of friends. Just for a joke I thought I'd steal up to the
house and see how you were behaving yourselves. By chance--again--
I happened to see this light through the library windows." And
Maitland, putting an incautious hand upon the bull's-eye on the
desk, withdrew it instantly, with an exclamation of annoyance and
four scorched fingers.
"He's been at the safe," he added quickly, diverting attention
from himself. "I was just in time."
"My wor-r-rd!" said Higgins, with emotion. Then quickly: "Did 'e
get anythin', do you think, sir?"
Maitland shook his head, scowling over the butler's burly
shoulders at the rapidly augmenting concourse of servants in the
hallway--lackeys, grooms, maids, cooks, and what-not; a background
of pale, scared faces to the tableau in the library. "This won't
do," considered Maitland. "Get back, all of you!" he ordered
sternly, indicating the group with a dominant and inflexible
forefinger. "Those who are wanted will be sent for. Now go!
Higgins, you may stay."
"Yes, sir. Yes, sir. But wot an 'orrid 'appenin', sir, if you'll
permit me--"
"I won't.


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