"But if the street door was not opened to Mr. Reginald, how did he get in?"
"He had a latchkey, which he told my husband he had taken with him when his father turned him off."
A light seemed to be breaking upon Dick; all this was new to him. "At what time did you say Mr. Reginald entered his father's house?"
"It must have been about six o'clock. When he heard that his father was not at home he said he would wait; but my husband begged him not to, and asked him to go away. He seemed so bent upon seeing his father--he used the word 'must,' my husband told me--that it was hard to persuade him, but at last he consented, and said he would call again at ten o'clock, when Mr. Boyd would be sure to be alone."
The light grew stronger, and it was only by an effort that Dick was able to suppress his agitation. He recalled the conversation he had had with his uncle the previous night at the police station, and the remark that towards the elucidation of the mystery there were many doors open. Here was another door which seemed to furnish a pregnant clue, and it terrified him to think that it might lead to a discovery in which all hopes of Florence's happiness would be destroyed.
"Yes," he said, "at ten o'clock, when Mr. Boyd would be sure to be alone."
"Then my husband, remembering the caution given him by Mr. Boyd that nobody was to be allowed to enter the house during his absence, asked the young gentleman not to mention to his father that he had already paid one visit to the house. You see, sir, my husband feared that he would be blamed for it, and be turned away, as the other clerks had been, for Mr. Boyd is of that suspicious nature that he doesn't believe a word any man says. The young gentleman gave the promise and went away."
"Did Mr. Reginald say why he wanted to see his father?"
"Not directly, sir; but my husband gathered that the young gentleman had come down in the world, and was in need of money."
"Ah! Go on, please."