“I cannot tell you.”
“You'll have to tell me,” he insisted, roughly. “I'm now engaged in looking into my nephew's affairs. I want all the information I can get.”
“I can only ask you—implore you to tell me where he is.”
“I'd like to know, myself,” he retorted, bluntly. “I'd give considerable to know. You needn't look at me as if you think I'm lying! Now you may as well be frank with me, Miss Kilgour. I'm going to be frank with you. I have always found you to be a young woman of prudence and caution. I'll take a chance and tell you something which I have been keeping to myself. I want you to know why you needn't feel bound to keep any promise you have made to my nephew. He has played a despicable trick on me, his own uncle, after all the help I have given him. He practically stole five thousand dollars from me and has run away, and I don't know where he is. Now, what have you to tell me?”
“I want to put this in his hands, sir.” She produced a packet, at which the colonel peered with curiosity. “You will certainly find out where he is. I want you to give it to him.”
“Oh, love-letters, eh?”
“No, sir!”
With shaking fingers she untied the cord and displayed the contents. The packet was money, many bills stacked neatly, and the size of the bundle made the colonel open his eyes very wide.
“We—I—we owe it to him, sir. There are five thousand dollars here.”
“So that's what he did with my money, eh? Well, I'll take it.”