“Right ninety—no, right thirty—Why, I believe I have forgotten it, sir,” declared Jack in confusion.
“Perhaps you have forgotten this too, then?” As he spoke the manager took from his desk a small notebook. “I found it on the floor in front of the safe this morning.”
“It is mine, sir. I must have dropped it last night. I worked extra until after midnight, sir,” explained Jack, “and on the way out I chased a mouse in here from the stairway, and when it ran under the safe I dropped to my knees to find it. The book must have fallen from my pocket.
“But what is wrong, sir?”
“The cash-box is not in the safe this morning.”
Jack started back, the color fading from his cheeks as the significance of it all came to him.
“And now you pretend to have the combination entirely wrong,” went on the manager.
Jack found his voice. “Mr. Black, you are mistaken! You are mistaken! I never could do such a thing! Never!”
“I would prefer proof,” Mr. Black said coldly.
Jack caught at the idea. “Would you let me try to prove it, sir? Will you give me a week in which to try and clear myself?”