Part 8 (1/2)
”Stop, Mr Anson,” said the director sharply; ”we have heard you all through. Have the goodness to be silent now while Mr Ingleborough gives us his statement.”
”But legal a.s.sistance, sir.”
”You can have as much as you like, sir, as soon as the matter is brought before the magistrates. We must first of all hear what Mr Ingleborough has to say. Now, sir, have the goodness to tell us everything you know about this business.”
Ingleborough made his statement perfectly clearly, and it was listened to in silence, and the diamonds were produced.
Afterwards the three directors spoke together in a low tone of voice for a few minutes, ending by turning to Anson to tell him that he must consider himself for the present as suspended from all further duty in connection with the company's business.
”We have no desire to proceed to extremities, Mr Anson,” he said in conclusion, ”and every opportunity will be given you to clear yourself; but in the meantime you must consider yourself under supervision, and your lodgings will be searched.”
”I protest, sir,” cried the young man warmly. ”You have no right to order such a thing to be done without magisterial authority.”
”Then we will a.s.sume the right, Mr Anson, as it is a question of our property being stolen by our black employes and finding a purchaser in one of our clerks. Mr West, as the superintendent is keeping an eye upon Anson, I presume he is here?”
”I pa.s.sed him at the door as I came in, sir,” answered West.
”Have the goodness to call him in.”
Anson winced; but he faced the tall stern-looking officer of police as he entered and heard the reason for his being called in.
”Then you wish a search to be made, gentlemen?” said the superintendent.
”Certainly.”
”Look here,” cried Anson fiercely; ”there's law for everybody. I'm not your servant any longer, for I refuse to stay with such a pack of tyrannical dividend-making scoundrels.”
”That will do,” growled the superintendent, in a low, deep voice. ”Keep a civil tongue in your head. You'll do no good for yourself by this.”
”You mind your own business,” cried Anson, turning upon the officer so fiercely that West wondered at the change in his fellow-clerk's manner.
”All right: I will,” said the officer, seizing him sharply.
”Here, what are you going to do?” cried Anson, in alarm.
”Search you, my lad,” was the reply.
”Then I call everyone present to witness that this is illegal. I'm not going to stand quietly by and be treated like a worm.”
”Leave off wriggling, then,” said the officer.
”I won't. I refuse to be treated like one of the black labourers.”
”Look here, sir,” said the officer sternly; ”I don't want to treat you like a Kaffir unless you behave like one. You are charged with illicit buying, and your game's up; so the best thing you can do is to produce everything you have on you and have done with the matter.”
”Search me if you dare,” cried Anson, still keeping up his defiant manner.
”Right: I dare,” said the officer. ”Mr Ingleborough, be ready to lend a hand if I want it.”
”If John Ingleborough dares to lay a hand on me I'll send a bullet through him.”