“Yes, yes, give them to me.”

“I think I had better keep them,” I replied decidedly.

CHAPTER XXXIII

 In Brooklyn

I fully understood the value of the papers that were contained in the note-book.  Mr. Aaron Woodward would not have persecuted me so closely had he not deemed them of great importance.

And when I told Duncan I would keep them, I meant what I said.  It might not be right legally, but I was sure it was right morally, and that was enough to quiet my conscience.

“Better keep them?” repeated Duncan, as he sprang to his feet.

“Exactly.”

“You have no right to do that.”

“I don’t know about that.  I was arrested for having them, and what’s the use of my having the name without the game?”

Duncan sank down on the edge of the bed again.

“If you had spoken to me like that yesterday, I’d have wanted to punch your head,” he said.  “But you’re a good fellow, Roger, and I don’t blame you for acting as you do.  Do you know what the papers contain?”

“I think I do.”

“They concern my father’s affairs,” he went on uneasily.

“And my father’s as well,” I added.

“Not so very much.”

“I think so.”

“Let me show you.  Hand the papers over.”

“Excuse me, Duncan, if I decline to do so.  You, aided by Pultzer and others, stole them from your father’s library, and then threw suspicion on me.”

“I didn’t throw suspicion on you.  My father did that himself.”

“You had nothing to do with that handkerchief?”

“I took the handkerchief by accident.”

“Then I beg your pardon for having said so,” I said heartily.

“Never mind, let that pass.  I’ll tell you what I’ll do.  Give me the papers and I will restore them to my father and tell him the truth.”

“I must decline your offer.”

“Why?  Don’t you believe I’ll confess?  If you don’t I’ll give you a written confession.”

“No, it isn’t that.  I am going to keep the papers because they are valuable to me.”

“What do you mean by valuable?” asked Duncan, his curiosity increasing.

“Just what I say.”

“What will the old gent say when he hears of it?”

“I don’t care what he says.  He’ll hear of a good deal more before long.”

“How about the robbery at the Widow Canby’s?”

“That will be straightened out, too.”

There was a knock on the door, and, opening it, I was confronted by one of the servants.

“Mr. Strong here, sir?” he asked.

“That’s my name.”

“A gentleman below to see you, sir.  Gave his name as Mr. Harrison.”

“Tell him I will be down in a minute,” I said.

“Now I’m ready to leave you,” I went on to Duncan, when the servant had departed.  “I advise you to take a good wash, get your breakfast, and take the first train home.  Good-by.”