Bradley pushed the slip across the desk. The captain looked at it carefully. "Humph!" he said again. "You're right. And those are five hundred dollar bonds, all of 'em. Well, that settles that. And now it's all fog again.... Humph! In a way I'm glad—but—— Pshaw!"
"Yes. And now maybe you'll tell me what you're after? Don't you think it's pretty nearly time?"
"Why, perhaps, but I'm afraid that's what I can't tell—you or anybody else.... Bradley, just one more thing. Do you happen to know whether there was any of those Boston bonds in Lobelia Phillips' estate? That is, did any of 'em come to her husband from her?"
The lawyer's answer was emphatic enough.
"Yes, I do know," he said. "There wasn't any. Those bonds are a brand new issue. They have been put out since her death."
Here was another gun spiked. Kendrick whistled. Bradley regarded him keenly.
"Cap'n," he demanded, "are you on the trail of that Eg Phillips? Do you really think you've got anything on him? Because if you have and you don't let me into the game I'll never forgive you. Of all the slick, smooth, stuck-up nothings that—— Say, have you?"
Kendrick shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Squire," he observed. "And, at any rate, I couldn't tell you, if I had. ... Eh? And now what?"
For the lawyer had suddenly struck the desk a blow with his hand. He was fumbling in another pigeon-hole and extracting therefrom another packet of papers.
"Cap'n Kendrick," he said, "I know where there are—or were, anyhow—more of those Boston 4-1/2s."