“He did have you in his mind at one time,” I said. “He said, ‘If neither Miss Winnie nor Miss Cynthia took it, the robbery must have been committed during the fifteen minutes between their visits to the safe!’”
“He said that?” Winnie inquired, with interest.
“Yes, and Winnie, the thing is plain to me—I believe Cynthia took that money.” Winnie shook her head.
“Now just listen to my reasoning. Milly has been insisting that Cynthia shall pay up. We know that Cynthia has received no money lately. She stole it and gave it to Milly, and made her promise not to tell who gave it to her. It’s as plain as the nose on my face. And then,” I continued triumphantly, warming to my conclusion, “she artfully throws the suspicions of the robbery on you, as a revenge for the straightforward talk you gave her. Haven’t I ferretted it all out well? Isn’t it the most likely way in the world that it could have happened? Are you not perfectly convinced?”
“It is the most likely story,” Winnie replied, “and so very feasible does it seem that even I am almost convinced, although I know positively that it did not happen that way, even Cynthia must not be unjustly suspected.”
“How do you know it?”
“Because Cynthia told the truth when she said that the money was stolen when she looked into the safe. It was gone when I looked in.”
“Winifred! But you told Mr. Mudge that it was there.”
“I told Mr. Mudge that I found my money just as I left it. It was not touched at all, you know; but yours, Milly’s, and a part of Adelaide’s, all that was stolen, was already taken.”
“But Mr. Mudge did not understand you so.”