“Lindon,” he said, as the lad joined him, “I left nine guineas and a half in the little mahogany bowl in my desk yesterday. Whom have you paid?”
“Paid? No one, sir.”
“But eight guineas are gone—missing.”
“Eight guineas? Missing, sir?”
“Yes, do you know anything about them?”
“No, sir. I—that is—yes, I remember now: I picked up a guinea on the floor, and meant to give it to you. Here it is: I forgot all about it.”
Don took a piece of gold from his flap waistcoat pocket, and handed it to his uncle, who looked at him so curiously that the boy grew confused.
“Picked this up on the floor, Lindon?” said Uncle Josiah.
“Yes, sir. It had rolled down by my desk.”
“It is very strange,” said Uncle Josiah, thoughtfully. “Well, that leaves seven missing. You had better look round and see if you can find them.”