"A gold piece!" she cried.
"Here is another, miss," returned Nelson, stepping into the room and picking it up from where it had rolled behind a footstool. "Twenty dollars! Gracious!"
"Gertrude! What is the meaning of this?"
The voice came from the hallway, and looking around the girl and our hero saw Mark Horton standing there, clad in his dressing gown and slippers. His face was filled with anger.
"Oh, uncle!" cried the girl. Just then she could say no more.
"So I have caught you, have I?" went on the retired merchant. He turned to our hero. "Who are you, young man?"
"I? I'm Nelson, sir."
"Nelson? Is that your name?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fine company you keep, Gertrude, I must say," sneered Mark Horton. "I would not have believed it, had I not seen it with my own eyes."