“You make too much now, as you made too much then of a matter that having its sole ground in a mistake, is, as I say, easily explainable. This affair which has come up now, is not so clear. Three of the boxes have been opened, and from one certain valuables have been taken. Can you give me any information that will assist us in our search after the culprit?”
“No sir.” The tone was quite humble, Hopgood drew back unconsciously towards the door.
“As for the mistake of a year ago to which you have seen proper to allude, I shall myself take pains to inform Mr. Stuyvesant of it, since it has made such an impression upon you that it trammels your honesty and makes you consider it at all necessary to be anxious about it at this time.”
And Hopgood unused to sarcasm from those lips, drew himself together, and with one more agitated look at the box on the table, sidled awkwardly from the room. Mr. Sylvester at once advanced to the screen which he hastily pushed aside. “Well, sir,” said he, meeting the detective’s wavering eye and forcing him to return his look, “you have now seen the various employees of the bank and heard most of them converse. Is there anything more you would like to inquire into before giving us the opinion I requested?”
“No sir,” said the detective, coming forward, but very slowly and somewhat hesitatingly for him. “I think I am ready to say—”
Here the door opened, and Mr. Stuyvesant returned. The detective drew a breath of relief and repeated his words with a business-like assurance. “I think I am ready to say, that from the nature of the theft and the mysterious manner in which it has been perpetrated, suspicion undoubtedly points to some one connected with the bank. That is all that you require of me to-day?” he added, with a bow of some formality in the direction of Mr. Sylvester.
“Yes,” was the short reply. But in an instant a change passed over the stately form of the speaker. Advancing to Mr. Gryce, he confronted him with a countenance almost majestic in its severity, and somewhat severely remarked, “This is a serious charge to bring against men whose countenances you yourself have denominated as honest. Are we to believe you have fully considered the question, and realize the importance of what you say?”
“Mr. Sylvester,” replied the detective, with great self-possession and some dignity, “a man who is brought every day of his life into positions where the least turning of a hair will sink a man or save him, learns to weigh his words, before he speaks even in such informal inquiries as these.”
Mr. Sylvester bowed and turned towards Mr. Stuyvesant. “Is there any further action you would like to have taken in regard to this matter to-day?” he asked, without a tremble in his voice.
With a glance at the half open box of the absent Mr. Harrington, the agitated director slowly shook his head. “We must have time to think,” said he.