Chesterton had known all about the thirty-three thousand dollars belonging to Morrell & Grimes in the banks. Grimes had hinted to his friend how easy it would be to sequestrate this money without Morrell knowing it. At first, evidently, Grimes had wished to use the bookkeeper as a tool.
Then he improved upon his plan. He had gotten rid of Chesterton by getting him the position at a distance. His going out of town himself had been merely a blind. He had imitated Prince Morrell so perfectly—after forging the checks in his partner’s handwriting—that the tellers of the two banks had thought Morrell really guilty as charged.
“So Fenwick Grimes got thirty-three thousand dollars with which to begin business on, after the bankruptcy proceedings had freed him of all debts,” said Dud Stone, reflectively. “Yet there must have been one other person who knew, or suspected, his crime.”
“Who could that be?” cried Helen. “Surely Mr. Chesterton is guiltless.”
“Personally I would have taken the old man’s statement without his swearing to it. That is the confidence I have in him. I only wished it to be put into affidavit form that it might be presented to the courts—if necessary.”
“If necessary?” repeated Helen, faintly.
“You see, my dear girl, you now have the whip hand,” said Dud. “You can make the man—or men—who ill-used your father suffer for the crime——”
“But, is there more than Grimes? Are you sure?”
“I believe that there is another who knew. Either legally, or morally, he is guilty. In either case he was and is a despicable man!” exclaimed Dud, hotly.
“You mean my uncle,” observed Helen, quietly. “I know you do. How do you think he benefited by this crime?”