"Yes, yes," murmured the widow. "Mr. Wolverton, if you are right it arouses in my mind a terrible suspicion. Could my husband have been waylaid, murdered, and robbed?"
"No, I don't think so. His death was evidently the result of accident—the upset of his team."
"What then became of the money—the hundred and fifty dollars which he carried with him?"
"There, my dear lady, you ask me a question which I cannot answer. I am as much in the dark as you are."
"If this story is true, then we are one hundred and fifty dollars poorer than we supposed. It will be bad news for Robert."
"It need not be bad news for you, Mrs. Burton," said Wolverton, in an insinuating tone, shoving his chair a little nearer that occupied by the widow.
Mrs. Burton looked up in surprise.
"How can it fail to be bad news for me?" she asked. "A loss like that I cannot help feeling."
"Do you think I would be hard on you, Mrs. Burton?" asked Wolverton, in the same soft voice.
"If you are disposed to wait for the money, or relinquish a part under the circumstances, Robert and I will feel very grateful to you, Mr. Wolverton."