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"Maybe you didn't, but I'm going to take you to the station to search you," began Timms.

"Search me here," said the other innocently, and spread out his hands in the professional manner.

Timms hesitated for a moment, then, stepping forward, ran his hands over the passive body.

"Nothing here," he said. "I didn't expect you'd have it. Turn out your pockets."

The contents of Mr. Locks' pockets were put upon the table, and there was another scientific search. Timms looked round.

"I've got a search warrant, Mr. Fleet. It is a very unpleasant duty I have to perform, but it must be done."

"A search warrant for this office?" said the stout man indignantly. "You're exceeding your duty, officer. This is monstrous! Do you suggest——"

"I am suggesting that Locks may have concealed the loot in this room without your knowing," said the other soothingly. "I've got nothing against you. A gentleman like you, naturally, would know nothing about it. But Goldy is pretty artful."

"Flatterer," said Goldy, gratified.

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