The man did not answer. He was engaged in raising himself stiffly out of the hole. He was dressed in sailor trousers and a sleeveless shirt. As the bottom of the cupboard fell back into place he turned and glared at Hamish. "So you're the guy that's been playin' them smart tricks!" he snarled.
"If you mean locking you in the cellar," Hamish returned, "I figured you'd be some annoyed. But the next time you peddle fake hair tonic----"
"It's a good tonic," snapped the little man. "I made it myself in Brazil from a native receipt."
"Yeah, but you had to get yourself a supply of wigs to make folks fall for it!"
This exchange of repartee was interrupted by Michael. "Look here," he demanded, "what are you hiding in this house for? What are you after?"
The man turned on him sourly. "What business is that of yourn?"
"It's my business!" Aunt Cal's voice had regained its customary authority. She had dropped onto one of the straight horsehair covered chairs and was regarding the man with a strange tense look. "Where," she demanded, "is Carter Craven?"
Mr. Bangs--for of course it was he--seemed to notice her for the first time. And there was recognition in his glance as he answered more respectfully than he had yet spoken.
"Craven's gone. Died in the Argentine last winter."
There was a moment's silence and then Aunt Cal asked tremulously, "You were with him when he died?"
The other nodded. "And that reminds me," he said, "he sent you a message, said I was to come back and give it to you myself. Or if you wasn't here to get your address and mail it to you." He began feeling in the pocket of his trousers, presently bringing out a dog-eared bill folder from which he extracted a dirty envelope.
"And why have you not given me this before?" Aunt Cal inquired as she took the letter from the man's hand.
He shrugged. "All in good time. I says to myself I'll just take a look round first and get the lay of the land like."
Hamish eyed him fiercely. "So you opened the letter," he accused "and took out the part you thought interesting--the sheet that had those measurements on it!"
Mr. Bangs shook his head. "Naw, Mr. Detective, you got me wrong. I never opened the letter. I found that there paper--since you're so interested--with Carter Craven's things after he died."