“Of course, she wouldn’t!” exclaimed Mr. Cutler hastily. “That would be impossible. If she could, it would be no evidence.”
He seemed alarmed over something.
“I would not like to make a decision regarding a voice when such an important matter is involved,” said the girl gravely. “I am not familiar with some of the tones of your clerks, as they only talk over the ’phone occasionally. But I could not be mistaken in the voice of Tom Baldwin,” she added, as she smiled once more at the boy whom she had so completely vindicated.
“I am glad of it,” remarked Mr. Boise. “I never for a moment believed Tom guilty, but I am glad his innocence is so firmly established. I am afraid we shall not discover who sent the message, but I am sure of one thing.”
“What is that?” asked his partner quickly.
“That whoever did it is an enemy of this firm—I may say a traitor, for it was some one in this office, of that I am positive. If I ever discover who it was, I shall deal severely with him.”
Mr. Cutler turned aside and entered his office without a word.
“I believe I need detain you no longer, Tom,” said Mr. Boise. “It is long after your regular hour. I think we shall have to raise your salary again, if we keep you working overtime like this,” and he smiled at the boy.
“I don’t mind staying,” said Tom genially, “though of course if you’re going to give me more money, I’ll not get out an injunction against you,” and he laughed.
“Ah, I see that you are coming on with your study of the law,” commented his employer. “Well, we’ll take the matter under advisement,” he said, in the manner of a judge finishing up a case, “and we will let you know later. Good-night. Good-night, Miss Renfield.”