“Have you nothing to say, Herbert?” he asked, more in sorrow than in anger.
“No, sir,” said Herbert, in a low voice; “nothing, except what I have already said. Tom has uttered a wicked falsehood, and he knows it.”
“Of course, I expected you would say that,” said Tom, with effrontery.
“This is a serious charge, Herbert,” proceeded Mr. Godfrey. “I shall have to ask you to produce whatever you have in your pockets.”
“Certainly, sir,” said our hero, calmly.
But, as he spoke, it flashed upon him that he had in his pocket twenty-six dollars, and the discovery of this sum would be likely to involve him in suspicion. He could, indeed, explain where he got it; but would his explanation be believed? Under present circumstances, he feared that it would not. So it was with a sinking heart that he drew out the contents of his pockets, and among them his own pocketbook.
“Is that yours?” asked Mr. Godfrey, turning to Mr. Walton.
“No, it is not; but he may have transferred my money to it.”
Upon this hint, Mr. Godfrey opened the pocketbook, and drew out the small roll of bills, which he proceeded to count.
“Twenty-six dollars,” he said. “How much did you lose?”