He could but
gloat over them behind locked doors, as I used to tell him, and at
last one afternoon I caught him at it. It was in the year after
that of my novitiate, a halcyon period at the Albany, when Raffles
left no crib uncracked, and I played second-murderer every time.
I had called in response to a telegram in which he stated that he
was going out of town, and must say good-by to me before he went.
And I could only think that he was inspired by the same impulse
toward the bronzed salvers and the tarnished teapots with which
I found him surrounded, until my eyes lit upon the enormous
silver-chest into which he was fitting them one by one.
"Allow me, Bunny! I shall take the liberty of locking both doors
behind you and putting the key in my pocket," said Raffles, when
he had let me in. "Not that I mean to take you prisoner, my dear
fellow; but there are those of us who can turn keys from the outside,
though it was never an accomplishment of mine."
"Not Crawshay again?" I cried, standing still in my hat.
Raffles regarded me with that tantalizing smile of his which might
mean nothing, yet which often meant so much; and in a flash I was
convinced that our most jealous enemy and dangerous rival, the
doyen of an older school, had paid him yet another visit.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55