"What is that about a post office order?" almost roared Mr. Andrews. "You never said a word about the post office order before!"
"No, sir, I forgot it," said the young woman meekly. "The policeman flurried me so with the lot of questions he asked, but Father said I must remember to tell you everything this time."
"I should think so indeed," commented Mr. Andrews. "Then you do not know this gentleman?"
"No, sir, I don't think I ever saw him before."
"Thank you, that will do! Mr. Phillips will tell you what to do to-morrow. Good afternoon, Miss Sims! Be sure you get to the court in good time."
"Yes, sir," answered the meek-voiced woman. And then she went, and closed the door behind her.
The next minute a young man came in, and he was asked if he knew Arthur.
"Never set eyes on the gent before," replied the young fellow briskly. "He don't look the sort that comes to our market. Our Mr. Murray was a little, weazel-like chap. Thought he knew a thing or two more than most of us, and we let him think so, as it paid the saloon well to. No, bless you, he isn't a bit like our Mr. Murray," concluded the young fellow.
"Thank you!" put in Mr. Andrews at this point, for, having got the evidence he wanted for the next day's examination, he did not wish to waste his time on gossip.
Then another man came in, and the moment he began to speak, Arthur recognized the voice of the cabman who had taken his cousin home the night the roughs were robbing him, and who afterwards took Arthur back to the town instead of driving the cab there empty. And this he was prepared to explain to the lawyer first, and to the magistrate the next day, if it was necessary.