“Until we started away on this trip,” was the reply, “we had nothing to indicate that the real clew to the mystery lay in New York.”
“Did deposit box A contain papers connecting Redfern’s embezzlement with any of the officials of the new trust company?” asked the manager.
“Certainly!” was the reply.
The manager gave a low whistle of amazement and turned to his own telegrams. The millionaire sat brooding in his chair for a moment and then left the room. At the door of the building, he met Sam Weller.
“Mr. Havens,” the young man said, drawing the millionaire aside, “I want permission to use one of your machines for a short time to-night.”
“Granted!” replied Mr. Havens with a smile.
“I’ve got an idea,” Sam continued, “that I can pick up valuable information between now and morning. I may have to make a long flight, and so I’d like to take one of the boys with me if you do not object.”
“They’ll all want to go,” suggested the millionaire.
“I know that,” laughed Sam, “and they’ve been asleep all day, and will be prowling around asking questions while I’m getting ready to leave. I don’t exactly know how I’m going to get rid of them.”
“Which machine do you want?” asked Mr. Havens.