“You are a depositor also, are you not? I seem to remember your face.”
“Yes.”
“What is your name?”
“Jeremiah Barclay.”
“I remember now. Why do you want to know about this boy?”
“He ought to have given me the money, instead of putting it into the bank.”
“We have nothing to do with that. He did not steal it from you, I presume.”
“No,” answered Jerry, reluctantly. It occurred to him for an instant to claim that Paul had robbed him, but he was rather afraid that the telegraph boy would in that case become angry and leave him, and the sum he had in bank would not pay him for that.
The miser did not suspect that Paul had over five dollars laid up, having no knowledge of the handsome gift he had received from Mrs. Cunningham. But even if it were only five dollars, it was sufficient to excite Jerry’s cupidity, and he decided that he must manage to get possession of it.
“Then you won’t tell me how much money Paul has in the bank?”