“It seemed very strange to call up your uncle’s home and to hear a new voice there. The telephone was always answered by that servant your uncle had for so many years. Now what is his name?” Westcott concluded.
“Hodgson.”
“Ah, yes. Hodgson. Is he no longer there?”
“I felt he needed a vacation,” replied Bob, indulgently. “He felt my uncle’s death very severely. So I told him to enjoy a rest.”
“Very considerate indeed,” assented Thaddeus Westcott, approvingly.
“Betty Mandell has also gone away,” added Bob. “The old house seemed to worry her, without my uncle there. She has taken a trip to Florida.”
“I expect to go to Florida to-morrow,” observed Westcott. “Perhaps I shall meet her there.”
“Perhaps,” said Bob, in a peculiar tone which the old man did not notice.
“Let me explain what I have to tell you,” said Thaddeus Westcott. “Before I begin, I must mention that it is for your ears alone.
“I did not wish Mr. Mallory to be here to learn what I have to say; I simply wanted to be sure of your identity, Mr. Galvin. So if Mr. Mallory will—”