“That is false!”
“Do you see the cross, in red ink, on the reverse side of the bills?”
“Well, what of it?”
“I marked the bills in that way, so as to be able to trace them.”
“Well,” said Benton faintly.
“They were put into the drawer at three o’clock yesterday afternoon. They must have been taken out some time between that hour and the time when you produced them in the gambling-house.”
“I am the victim of a conspiracy,” said Benton, turning pale.
“If it is a conspiracy to put my friend here on your track,” said Smithson, “then you have some color for your statement. Mr. Vincent is an old detective.”
Albert Benton was silenced. Ingenious as he was, there was nothing left for him to say.
“Now, Benton,” said Mr. Smithson, “how much have you taken from me during the time you have been in my employment?”