"Why, uncle——"
"Don't talk back to me. I know all about your doings. You wish——" The retired merchant broke off short. "What is that in your hand? A gold piece, as I live! And this young man has another! Ha! you have been at my safe!"
Pale with rage, Mark Horton tottered into the room and clutched Gertrude by the arm.
"Oh, Uncle Mark, let me go!" she gasped in horror.
"To think it has come to this!" groaned the invalid. "My own niece turned robber! It is too much! Too much!" And he sank into an armchair, overcome.
"Hold on, sir; you're making a mistake," put in Nelson.
"Silence, you shameful boy! I know her perhaps better than you do, even though you do come to see her on the sly."
"Me? On the sly?" repeated our hero, puzzled.
"You talk in riddles, uncle," put in Gertrude faintly.