“Who told you?” groaned the old man, livid with terror. “Have—have you taken any?”
“Not a dollar. It’s all there.”
“Have you been spying when I was asleep?”
“No, I haven’t. That ain’t my style.”
“How could you find out, then?”
“I’ll tell you. The first night I was here, you got up in your sleep and took up the board. Then you drew out two bags of gold pieces and counted them.”
“Oh, I’m ruined! I’m undone!” lamented Ben.
I don’t see how you are.”
“I shall be robbed. There’s only a little there—only a few dollars to bury me.”
“I guess you mean to have a tall funeral,” said Tony coolly. “There’s a thousand dollars there.”