"Before he had time to go home? Before he had acquainted your mother with his good fortune?"
"Neither my mother nor myself knew but that he died a poor man."
"But he had the securities with him. Did your uncle say nothing of them?"
"Not a word."
A look of suspicion appeared on the face of Filippo Novarro.
"Tell me," he said, quickly—"did your uncle, shortly after your father's death, enlarge his business?"
"Yes, sir; he moved from a small store in Grand street to a larger store on Broadway—the one which he now occupies."
With the Cuban, suspicion was now changed to certainty.
He brought down his fist heavily upon the table at his side.