He tore Speyer's letter into small fragments, rolled and crushed them together, and scattered them under the grate.
CHAPTER LVIII.
When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will.—Much Ado about Nothing.
Morton reached New York, and found the person to whom he had been referred by Richards. He proved to be a German, of respectable appearance enough; but Morton could learn nothing from him. He admitted that he had once known Speyer; but stubbornly denied all present knowledge concerning him; and after various inquiry elsewhere, which brought him into contact with much vile company, without helping him towards his end, Morton gave over the search, and returned to Boston.
A day or two after, he met Richards in the street.
"Well, Mr. Richards, I was in New York the other day, and saw your man; but he knew nothing about Speyer."
Richards laughed.
"I dare say not; just let me write to him; he will tell me a different story. I used to be hand and glove with all these refugees; and I will lay you any bet I find Speyer's whereabouts within a week."
Accordingly, three or four days after, Richards called at Morton's lodgings, with an air of great self-satisfaction.