“He’s moved out,” Sam said. At the same time he picked up from the floor, near the entrance, a small card. On this card it was stated that Mr. Royse had moved his offices up one flight.
“This card was stuck in the door,” said Sam. “It fell out. He must have moved up recently. Shall we go up?”
“Yes,” said Tom, “I guess we—”
He stopped suddenly. Both he and Sam heard a murmur of voices, and then came one in louder tones. They both recognized the accent of Captain Hawkesbury.
“Where does that sound come from?” Tom whispered.
Silently Sam pointed to the ceiling. There was a hole, evidently cut for a stove pipe, or for ventilation. The building was an old one. The hole in the ceiling went through the floor in the present offices of the lawyer. It made a perfect sounding device.
As Tom and Sam listened, they could hear plainly all that was said in the room above. Tom recognized the voices of Captain Hawkesbury and Mr. Doolittle. The other voice he judged to be that of the lawyer.
Mr. Doolittle was speaking.
“And so you see,” he stated, “we must do something, now that Tom is approaching the age set in the trust deed. Of course Captain Hawkesbury and I realize that it is a ticklish legal proceeding, but we are willing to pay well for what you can do. I will not give up the money. I worked hard enough for it, and if it had not been for me the railroad company never would have bought Taylor’s land.”
“Yes, and I helped put the deal through,” said the captain. “I am going to keep my share from that little whiffet! I’ll break him yet! Can you help us out, Mr. Royse? It’s too bad I haven’t the draft of that trust deed, but perhaps we can do without it.”