As soon as they were in his room Roland struck a light, and was able to look at his father. He would hardly have recognized him, so pale and haggard was he. "Why, father, have you been ill?"
"Not actually ill, Roland, though almost out of my mind at times; but I trust that it is nearly over. Your letter has given me new life, for it has made me hope that this black cloud which has fallen over me will be cleared away, and that I can again lift up my head and look my fellow-men in the face. I am ready now to give myself up, if Mr. Fernlea thinks that it will be the best thing for me to do, and to stand my trial. Before, I had nothing, save a bare negative, to oppose the evidence against me. Now there is at least a story to tell."
"We must not tell it at present, father; we must wait till it is complete. If there is any evidence in that safe at Chicago connecting Johnstone with the thefts, we may be sure that it would be destroyed the instant you appeared on the scene. The first thing, as Mr. Fernlea says, is to obtain a list of, at any rate some of the securities that are missing. We hardly hoped that you would be able to furnish them."
"No, Roland. I could tell you the stocks to which they belonged, but not the numbers. And, so far as I know, there is but one way of doing so besides that of obtaining the list from one of the directors, which, you said in your letter Mr. Fernlea thinks would be dangerous to do."
"And what is that, father?"
"It is for me to go to the bank and get the book which Johnstone and I went through together that night."
"But how are you to do that, father? It is probably in the safe if it is still in existence."
"I supposed so, Roland. But when I went away I never thought of leaving the keys behind me, and found them days afterwards in the pocket of my overcoat. Unless they have changed the fastenings, there is nothing to prevent my unlocking the door, going up to my old room, entering it, and opening the safe as usual. There would be no occasion even for a light, for I know the feel of the book so well, with its locked clasp, that I could tell it in the dark if I put my hand on it."
"But it would be an awful risk, father, were you detected. You would be accused—" And he hesitated.
"Of trying to rob the bank for a second time," Mr. Partridge said. "Well, if necessary, I must run the risk."