“We had sat and talked together considerably. Perhaps he wanted to have it found on me,” suggested Bernard, with a sudden thought.
“This may be, although it looks queer. I shall have to place you under arrest.”
“Why?” asked Bernard, in alarm.
“Because I have found a portion of the missing securities in your possession.”
“But I told you how that happened.”
“Very true, and your account may be correct—or it may not.”
“You will find it is.”
“What’s your name?”
“Bernard Brooks.”
“Where are you going?”