"Do you know where my bag is?"
Mr. Backhouse said nothing.
"Then I see you do," cried Harry; "and so do I; and that was not my question at all. Did Miss Lowndes know about it?"
"No, sir."
"You are sure?"
"Certain! She never saw him take it out; he took jolly good care she shouldn't; and he came back with a yarn as long as your leg to account for the money."
Harry's feelings were a revelation to himself; they were the beginning of the greatest revelation of his life. But he cloaked them carefully and passed the better part of an hour reading the newspaper and exchanging an occasional remark with the lessee of the office. And no later than a quarter to four, which was long before Harry expected him, Lowndes was back. But he looked baffled, and there was no bag in his hand.
"Will either of you fellows lend me five bob for the cab?" he panted. "I've been all over the City of London."
Mr. Backhouse shook his head.
"And I can't," said Harry, "for I have barely enough to take me down to Guildford and back."