“That is my name,” said the visitor, whose face had quite lost its expression of simplicity.
He lifted the wide-brimmed hat from his head, and with it came the straggling yellow locks which had helped to disguise him.
“I’ve been having a look at your office hands, and asked them a few questions,” he said.
“With what result?”
“None. Appearances are all correct. If there are any rascals among them they have the wit to keep it out of their looks and voices.”
“Have you gained any clew to the custom-house fraud?”
“Not as yet. I have put all the sharp eyes I could on the track. It is a new style of work, and I don’t know just where to place it among the professionals.”
“It is no professional,” said Mr. Leonard.
“You think so?” remarked Mr. Fitler, looking up.
“I am sure. Please examine that check. It is my printed form, you see, and my correct signature.”