Stiles said he had not known Clayton very long—just a few days, in fact. He had met him for the first time last Sunday at All Saints' Mission, where Jimmy was an usher. On Monday night there had been a social gathering of the younger members of the church in the Sunday School and Clayton had attended that and seemed to enjoy himself. He had made friends with everybody quickly and seemed to fit in so readily that he had been accepted without question by everybody, from the pastor down. He was an American who had come north to visit relatives and was on his way back to Philadelphia. He expected to return shortly, he had told Stiles, and might decide to locate here permanently. He was in the hardware business, somewhere near Philadelphia.
"All right, Jimmy, that will do. Now, better wait outside till your friend arrives. It all seems straight enough so far as you're concerned," and Podmore closed the door on him with a smile of encouragement; for young Stiles looked as if he needed encouragement. "You've scared the wits out of him, J. C. That won't get us anywhere," he reproved when the three were alone.
"I don't trust anybody——"
"Wait," commanded Podmore with upraised hand. He stepped over to the table quickly and closely scrutinized the tan satchel. Finally he drew attention to the triangular mark which he had scratched on one end with his pocket-knife. "It's the satchel O.K. Now, who opened it?"
"Ferguson. I gave him the key, as you suggested, and he opened it in front of me. And so help me, that stuff there was all that was in it. The money was gone. I tell you I never felt so much like a fool——" Nickleby broke off with an oath, still smarting under the jibes which the caustic Mr. Ferguson had levelled at him, and beneath which the President of the Interprovincial had writhed in humiliation. "Somebody took that money out on the way over, Podmore."
"N—ot necessarily, J. C.," said Podmore judicially. "Wait, now.
Think, man. Were you there when Stiles——?"
"Of course I was."
"——when Stiles handed the satchel to Ferguson? Did you see him do it?"
"Why,—no, not exactly. I was out in the general office when the kid took it in to Ferguson. What are you driving at?"
"Talking to anybody out there?"