"
"And what?" said Deede Dawson, his voice so soft it was like a
caress, his smile so sweet it was a veritable benediction. "What
was in that packing-case?"
"Didn't look," answered Dunn, and then, with a sudden change of
manner, as though all at once understanding what previously had
puzzled him. "Lum-me," he cried, "is that where you keep the
silver? Lor', and to think I never even troubled to look."
"You never looked?" repeated Deede Dawson.
Dunn shook his head with an air of baffled regret. "Never thought
of it," he said. "I thought it was just lumber like in the other
attics, and I might have got clear away with it if I had known, as
easy as not."
His chagrin was so apparent, his whole manner so innocent, that
Deede Dawson began to believe he really did know nothing.
"Didn't you wonder why the door was locked?" he asked.
"Lor'," answered Dunn, "if you stopped to wonder about everything
you find rummy in a crib you're cracking, when would you ever get
your business done?"
"So you didn't look--in that packing-case?" Deede Dawson repeated.
"If I had," answered Dunn ruefully, "I shouldn't be here, copped
like this. I should have shoved with the stuff and not waited for
nothing more. But I never had no luck."
"I'm not so sure of that," said Deede Dawson grimly, and as he spoke
a soft voice called down from upstairs.
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