"Where were you on Tuesday morning at about five o'clock?" asked
Penfield, first consulting some memoranda on his desk.
"On my way home," explained O'Ryan. My relief had just come."
"Does your beat take in the McIntyre residence? "
"It does, sir."
"Did you observe any one loitering in the vicinity of the residence
prior to five o'clock, Tuesday morning?"
"No, sir. It was only when the lady called to me that I was
attracted to the house."
"Did she state what was the matter?"
"Yes, sir. She said that she had locked a burglar in a closet, and
to come and get him, and I did so," and O'Ryan expanded his chest
with an air of satisfaction as be glanced about the morgue.
"Did the burglar resist arrest?"
"No, sir; he came very peaceably and not a word out of him."
"Had you any idea that the burglar was not what he seemed?"
"Devil an idea, begging your pardon - O'Ryan remembered hastily
where he was. "The burglar looked the part he was masquerading,
and his make-up was perfect," ended O'Ryan with relish. "Never
gave me a hint he was a gentleman and a bank cashier in disguise.
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