"No one knows I have them but him, Stumpy—and you." He gave me a suspicious glance. "Who are&—"
"The Strongs know," I put in hastily, thus cutting him off.
"What!" He jumped up from his chair. "Who was fool enough to tell them?"
"Nicholas Weaver left a dying statement&—"
"The idiot! I always said he was a weak-minded fool!" cried Chris Holtzmann. "Who has this statement?"
"I don't know where it is now, but Carson Strong's son had it."
"Strong's son! Great Scott! Then Woodward's goose is cooked. I always told him he hadn't covered up his tracks."
"Yes, but he paid you pretty well for your share of the work," I returned. I was getting mixed. The deception could not be kept up much longer, and I wondered what would happen when the truth became known.
"Didn't pay me half of what I should have got. I helped him not only in Brooklyn, but here in Chicago as well. How would he have accounted for all his money if I hadn't had a rich aunt die and leave it to him?" Chris Holtzmann gave a short laugh. "I reckon that was a neat plan of mine."
"You ran a big risk."