“Mr. Pitkin, did any one enter your store just after Philip left it to inquire after him?”
“No, sir,” answered Pitkin triumphantly. “That's a lie, at any rate.”
“You will remember that Philip did not make the assertion himself. This was the statement of the thief who robbed him.”
“Yes, of course,” sneered Pitkin. “He told his story very shrewdly.”
“Mr. Carter,” said Philip, “I can show you or any one else the house in which I was confined in Bleecker Street, and there will be no trouble in obtaining proof of the fire.”
“I dare say there may have been such a fire,” said Mr. Pitkin, “and you may have happened to see it, and decided to weave it into your story.”
“Do you think I stole the money or used it for my own purpose?” asked Philip pointedly.
Mr. Pitkin shrugged his shoulders.
“Young man,” he said, “upon this point I can only say that your story is grossly improbable. It won't hold water.”
“Permit me to judge of that, Mr. Pitkin,” said Mr. Carter. “I wish to ask YOU one question.”