"I want you to clear my father of the false charge which was brought against him ten years ago," answered Bert, firmly.
"I don't understand what you mean," stammered Harding, who had sunk back into a chair and was eyeing Bert with a troubled look.
"Oh, yes, you do, Mr. Harding. It was you who gave the information that one of the stolen bonds was in my father's overcoat pocket."
"It was true," said Harding doggedly.
"Where were the rest?" asked Bert, pointedly.
"How should I know? Your father had them secreted somewhere, I suppose."
"You know better than that. My father was innocent. He knew nothing of the bonds. An enemy plotted to get him into trouble."
"Do you charge me with being that enemy?" demanded Harding.
"You had something to do with it, but you were the instrument of another."
"How do you know that?" admitted Harding, incautiously.