"I think it is. Luke, get up."
By this time I had somewhat recovered, and I was not slow to obey the command. I arose to my feet, and took my place beside my newly-arrived friend.
"What's it all about?" went on Mr. Banker, turning to me.
"He says I robbed the safe of six thousand dollars," I replied.
"And so he did," put in my uncle, glad to be able to speak a word for himself.
"Six thousand dollars!" ejaculated Mr. Banker. "Phew! but that's a large sum!"
"I know nothing of the money," I went on. "But I think his son took it, and I just told him so, and that made him mad."
"My son is no thief," stormed Mr. Stillwell.
"And neither is Robert Foster's son, I reckon," returned my friend. "I've knowed Luke all my life, and he's as straightforward a lad as one wants to meet. There's some mistake, Mr. Stillwell."
"No mistake at all; and unless the boy gives up what he took he shall go to prison."