“I want to ask you what you did with that letter Mr. Carter gave you to post for me?” asked Phil.
Alonzo was indeed surprised, not to say dismayed. The truth was that, judging from the “feel” of the letter, it contained money, and he had opened it and appropriated the money to his own use. Moreover he had the bank-note in his pocket at that very moment, not having any wish to spend, but rather to hoard it.
“That's a queer question,” he stammered. “What letter do you refer to?”
“A letter Mr. Carter gave you to mail to me.”
“If he gave me any such letter I mailed it,” answered Alonzo, scarcely knowing what to say.
“I didn't receive it.”
“How do you know he gave me any letter?” demanded Alonzo, puzzled.
“I don't care to tell. I only know that there was such a letter handed to you. Do you know what was in it?”
“Writing, I s'pose,” said Alonzo flippantly.
“Yes, there was, but there was also a ten-dollar bill. I didn't receive the letter,” and Phil fixed his eyes searchingly upon the face of Alonzo.