"There, I presume that will be satisfactory," he said, as he showed it to Sam.
"That's all right, Mr. Fogg," was the answer. "And here is your check." Sam paused for a moment while the lawyer looked the check over. "By the way, Mr. Fogg, I understand you were in Leadenfield a few days ago at the tavern kept by Bissette."
"What's that?" shot out the lawyer, somewhat startled.
"I said that I understood that you were in Leadenfield a few days ago at the tavern kept by Bissette."
"And that you met a man there named Blackie Crowden," broke in Songbird, quickly.
"I—I was in Leadenfield some days ago on business," answered Belright Fogg, hesitatingly, "but I wasn't at the Bissette place, or anywhere near it."
"But you met a man named Blackie Crowden?" queried Sam.
The lawyer glared at the Rover boy and also at Songbird.
"Blackie Crowden? I don't know such an individual—at least, not by name."
"He is a fellow who used to work in Hoover's livery stable in Center Haven—a man who stutters greatly."