“Uncle!” exclaimed Lenning, in consternation. “You and I are the only ones who know the combination. You were away from home, and I—I——”
The colonel leaned forward and dropped an affectionate hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
“Tut, tut!” said he brusquely. “You know I trust you as I would myself. There is some one else who knows the combination, and who at one time had as free access to that safe as you or I. I refer to—to your half brother, Darrel.”
“But Ellis perished in that train wreck!”
“Supposed to, but I have always had a feeling that there might be some mistake. That graceless young scamp wasn’t born to shuffle off in any such way as that. What I should have done, I suppose, was to have the combination changed. But I did not. This is the result.”
“I wouldn’t be in too much of a hurry to judge Ellis, Uncle Al,” pleaded Lenning. “You’re only working on a theory, you know, and——”
There was sorrow in the fine old face of the colonel, but over all was the sternness of an iron will.
“I have evidence,” he interrupted; “much as it grieves me to tell it, Jode, yet I have evidence which cannot be denied. It is like you, boy, to plead for the rascal who has disgraced our blood; but, as for me, I shall not be victimized a second time without making him pay the penalty. I—— You are pale!” exclaimed the colonel, leaning forward to stare into his nephew’s face; “and you are trembling, too! What ails you, Jode? Brace up; don’t take this too much to heart.”
“I have something to tell you, uncle,” answered Lenning; “but, first, let me hear your evidence.”
The colonel took a knife from his pocket and handed it to Lenning.