“Dead loss,” said Van Heldre; “but it must be repaid.”
“Humph! pretty opinion you seem to have of me, sir, as a confidential clerk.”
“What do you mean, Crampton?”
“Mean, sir? Why, that I did my duty, and stopped every note at the Bank of England, of course.”
“You did that, Crampton?”
“Yes, sir; and those notes are of no use to anybody.”
“Capital. Hah! that’s better. Five hundred just coming on the other misfortune worried me. Why, Crampton, that’s a white paper plaster for my sore head.”
“Glad you’re satisfied, sir.”
“More than satisfied. Now tell me: have the police any notion who committed the robbery?” Crampton nodded. “Do you know?”
Crampton looked at his employer curiously, and nodded again.