He handed over Voles’ letter.
Mulhausen put on his glasses, opened the letter, and read it. Then he placed the open letter on top of the one beneath the agate paper weight, tore up the envelope, and threw the two fragments into the waste paper basket behind him.
“Anything more?” asked he.
“Yes,” replied the other, “a lot more. Let us begin at the beginning. You have obtained from me a piece of real estate worth anything up to a million pounds; you paid five thousand for it.”
“Yes!”
“You have got to hand me that property back.”
“I beg your pardon,” said Mulhausen. “Do you refer to the Glanafwyn lands?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And I have to hand those back to you—anything more?”
“No, that’s all. I received your daughter’s letters back from Voles yesterday—Let’s be plain with one another. Voles has confessed everything. I have his confession under his own handwriting, you are all in a net, the whole gang of you—you, your daughter, your son and Voles. You plucked me like a turkey. You know the whole affair as well as I do, and if I do not receive that property back before five o’clock to-day, I shall go to the nearest police office and swear an information against you.”