Warren put a hot hand to a head which still ached.
“I can’t imagine,” he answered. “I’ve never found him out in a lie yet. He’s too damn conceited to descend to one. I don’t think you should suspect Austin.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Warren, but I’ve got to. He lied to you and he lied to me and--ten thousand dollars’ worth of stuff was stolen. He’s in the outer room now. I’ll have him brought in.”
Austin entered with his precise and measured tread and bowed with respectful affection to his employer. He liked Conington Warren better than any American with whom he had taken service. The hearty, horse-loving type was one which appealed to Austin. He had several times been obliged to throw up lucrative jobs because employers persisted in treating him as an equal.
“This is a bad mix-up,” his master began. “The inspector seems to think you have been deceiving him.”
“He’s inclined to be hasty, sir,” said Austin tolerantly.
“See here,” snapped the inspector, “you say you found Mr. Warren in his library at half past twelve. Did you hear him enter the house?”
“No,” the butler returned, “he has his key.”
“The thing we want to clear up,” interrupted Mr. Warren in a kindly tone, “is simply this. What did I say to you when you spoke to me?”
“It was a gesture, sir, rather than a word. You waved your arm and I knew what you meant.”
“You are one prize liar!” roared the inspector. “You said something quite different when I asked you.”
“I don’t see that it matters much,” Austin returned acidly. “On Monday night Mr. Warren may have said for me to go to bed. On Tuesday he may have waved his hand impatient like. On Wednesday he may have asked for cigars or the evening papers. I remember only that on this occasion I was not asked for anything.” He turned to his employer, “I should like to remind you, sir, that we are giving a dinner party to-night and I ought to be seeing after it now. Can I go, sir?”
“You cannot,” cried Inspector McWalsh, “you’re under arrest!”
“I told you he was hasty, sir,” said Austin without emotion. “What for may I ask?”
“Let me answer him please, inspector,” begged Conington Warren. “You told the police that you saw me sitting in my library. Are you prepared to swear to that, Austin?”