“I will trouble you to speak in a different tone,” said Gerald with quiet dignity. “My father and I are poor enough, but no one ever charged us with dishonesty.”
Mr. Lane, awakening from sleep, heard the last words.
“What is the matter? What has happened?” he asked dreamily.
“Mr. Wentworth misses his pocketbook, father,” exclaimed Gerald.
“How much money was there in your wallet, Bradley?” asked the sick man.
“Nearly two hundred dollars.”
“That is a great deal of money to lose. You are sure it was in your pocket when you went to bed?”
“Yes, I felt it there.”
“Some one must have got into the cabin during the night.”