Bartley, who was avaricious, but not cruel, hesitated.
"Well," said he, "I will examine the safe before I go further."
Mr. Bartley opened the safe and took out the cash-box. It was empty. He uttered a loud exclamation. "Why, it's a clean sweep! A wholesale robbery! Notes and gold all gone! No wonder you were in such a hurry to leave! Luckily some of the notes were numbered. Search him."
"No, no. Don't treat me like a thief!" cried the poor boy, almost sobbing.
"If you are innocent, why object?" said Monckton, satirically.
"You villain," cried Clifford, "this is your doing! I am sure of it!"
Monckton only grinned triumphantly; but Bartley fired up. "If there is a villain here, it is you. He is a faithful servant, who warned his employer." He then pointed sternly at young Bolton, and the detective stepped up to him and said, curtly, "Now, sir, if I must."
He then proceeded to search his waistcoat pockets. The young man hung his head, and looked guilty. He had heard of money being put into an innocent man's pockets, and he feared that game had been played with him.
The detective examined his waistcoat pockets and found—nothing. His other pockets—nothing.
The detective patted his breast and examined his stockings—nothing.