“Can this be true, Willis?” wailed his stepmother. “Is it possible that you took my bonds, and would have left me to an old age of poverty?”
“No,” answered Ford, with a return of his usual assurance. “I am as innocent as a babe unborn. I am the victim of a conspiracy. As Mr. Reynolds is determined to shield his favorite by throwing the blame on it, I must submit. The time will come when he will acknowledge my innocence. Mother, I will satisfy you later, but I do not believe you will think me guilty. Gentlemen, I bid you all good-evening.”
No one spoke as he withdrew from the room, and not even Morrison offered to follow him.
When he was fairly out of the room, the broker turned to Morrison.
“Mr. Morrison,” he said, “I have a question or two to put to you. I think you will find it to your interest to answer correctly. Do you still maintain that these bonds were given you by Grant Thornton?”
“I may as well make a clean breast of it,” said Morrison. “They were given me by Willis Ford.”
“To satisfy a gambling debt, was it not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I take it for granted you did not know they were stolen?”
“If I had known it I wouldn't have touched them. I might have been suspected of stealing them myself.”