"Yes."

"May I see them?"

"Certainly. If you will promise to respect them as my personal property?"

Simon hesitated. "You mean--" he frowned, and then impatiently: "Oh, yes, I
promise that."

Coquenil drew an envelope from his breast pocket and from it he took a
number of white-leather fragments. And he showed the chief that most of
these fragments were stamped in gold letters or parts of letters.

"I'm satisfied," declared Simon after examining several of the fragments
and returning them. "_Bon Dieu!_" he stormed at Gibelin. "And you had that
bag in your hands!"

Gibelin sat silent. This was the wretchedest moment in his career.

"Well," continued the chief, "we _must_ have these pieces of leather. What
are your terms?"

"I told you," said Coquenil, "I want to be put back on the force. I want to
handle this case."

M. Simon thought a moment. "That ought to be easily arranged. I will see
the _préfet de police_ about it in the morning."

But the other demurred. "I ask you to see him to-night. It's ten minutes to