“Why do you wish me to, speak again?” said the stranger, smiling.
“So that your voice may aid me in remembering. I wish to associate your voice and your face.”
“Very well. What do you wish me to say?”
“You have said enough. I have your voice now.”
“I’m afraid you’ll not be able to remember,” said the stranger. “It doesn’t make any great difference, for I recognize you, and I can make assurance doubly sure by asking you a few questions. First, I wish to ask——”
“Excuse me,” interrupted Merry. “You are from Carson City, Nevada. You are connected with the bank in Carson, where I deposited a certain amount of valuable treasure, found by myself and some friends years ago in the Utah Desert. Your name is Horace Hobson.”
“Correct!” cried the man, with satisfaction. “Now, can you produce the receipt given you for that treasure?”
“Yes, sir,” nodded Frank, immediately producing a leather pocketbook and opening it. “I have it here.”
In a moment he had found the paper and handed it to Mr. Hobson.
The gentleman adjusted some gold-rimmed nose-glasses and looked the receipt over.