“I did,” answered Prokop in his stiff and ponderous German. “And what do you want here?”
“You,” said his guest completely delighted. “Do you know that I’ve been chasing you for six weeks? All the newspapers, all the detective institutes,—ha, ha, my dear sir, what do you say to that? Herr Gott, I am glad! How are you? Well?”
“Why have you stolen my things?” said Prokop gloomily.
“What do you mean, please?”
“Why have you stolen my things?”
“But, Mister Engineer,” said the cheerful little man, not in the least put out, “what are you saying? Stolen! Carson! That’s good, aha!”
“Stolen,” repeated Prokop meaningly.
“Tut, tut, tut,” protested Mr. Carson. “It’s all carefully stored. I arranged everything in order. My dear sir, how could you possibly leave it lying about like that? Anybody might have stolen it from you—what? Of course they could, my dear sir. They could have stolen it, sold it, made it public, eh? That goes without saying. They could have done that. But I’ve stored it for you, do you understand? Honestly, I have. That’s why I have been looking for you. You shall have everything back. Everything. That is,” he added with some hesitation and something steely flashed under his shiny spectacles, “that is . . . if you will be reasonable. But we shall come to an understanding, eh?” He added quickly: “You must become qualified. A wonderful career. Atomic explosions, disintegration of elements. Magnificent! Science, before every-
