He frowned, then suddenly
his face cleared.
"Look here," he said, his eye again on the man, "do you know where
all that silver belongs?"
She nodded.
"I help Selma sometimes."
"Could you put it back so nobody would know?"
"Oh, yes," she answered him, "and the--things from the bureau, too?"
His lips curled scornfully and his hold on the revolver tightened.
"A thorough job, wasn't it?" he muttered, then controlling himself
he answered evenly, "Oh, yes, might as well get 'em all back. We'll
just step in the library a minute."
The man got up and went before him into the library, stumbling as he
walked.
Lindsay watched him drop into a seat and stood in front of him.
"What proof have you got that what you said in there is true?" he
asked abruptly, "before we leave the house, I must know."
"Proof?" the man repeated, "proof?" He stared almost vacantly at
Lindsay.
"Why, yes," the boy answered impatiently.
"You say you're the father of one of the most brilliant men in my
class, you wear the pin of his society--a pin I happen to know he
lost recently--and I find you stealing my aunt's spoons! For God's
sake, what's the meaning of it?"
The man twisted his fingers together and moistened his lips.
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