"Great goodness, Hopewell!" cried Massey, pounding his fist upon the counter for emphasis, "you're the most exasperating critter. If this—this—— If Mr. Haley didn't give you the coin, who did?"
"Why—I—I——"
Drugg was slow enough at best. Now he was indeed very irritating. He was not the man to allow anything he said to injure another, if he could help it.
"Le's see," he continued; "I've had that gold piece sev'ral days. I am sure, of course, that Mr. Haley did not give it to me. No. Come to think of it——"
"Well?" gasped Mr. Massey.
"I do remember the transaction, now. It—it was give me as an option on my violin," said Hopewell Drugg, with growing confidence. "Yes. I remember now all about it."
"What's that? Yer fiddle, Hopewell?" put in Dexter. "Ye ain't goin' ter sell yer fiddle?"
"I must," Hopewell said simply. "I accepted that ten dollar gold piece and two five dollar bills, as a payment upon it."
"Who from?" demanded Massey, sticking to his text, and that only.
"Young Joe Bodley, of the Lake View Inn."