“It’s a lie, I say!”
“It’s the truth, you pitiful scoundrel!” said old Hopper. “But I made you disgorge some of it again, and sent it into the right channel.”
“What, you turn against me, too!” said Max, with a groan. “I say it’s a lie—a conspiracy. No money was sent: there was no uncle to send it.”
“No?” said Hopper quietly. “Well, I can prove it all; for I sent the money, for the sake of Dick here, and to try you both.”
“I tell you it’s a lie!” stammered Max, foaming at the mouth.
“You’ve got to prove it one,” said Fred carelessly. “Come along, constable—let’s be off. Here’s my last half-crown. I’ll go in a cab.”
“Stop!” cried Dick excitedly. “I won’t have it. I forgive Max. I forgive Fred here. I’ve plenty of money, constable. Can’t it be squared? I’ll—I’ll pay the reward. Cash down.”
“No, sir,” said the constable; “not if you doubled it.”
“But I will double it,” cried Dick.
“Hold hard, uncle,” said Fred, smiling. “It’s no go. But you always were a trump—always. Thank you for it! Sorry I’ve disgraced you. Tom, old man, it’s all right. Uncle, it’s all right about your little girl here. I came to-night, and she admitted me, thinking it was Tom; and as soon as I was inside I told her the police were after me, unless she could help me to escape. There’s the bag inside, with her purse and the jewels she gave me to sell, watch and chain, and the rest of it; for I was off across the herring-pond if I could get away. Fetch it out.”