She decided to go to the bank rather than to the Spaythe residence, where Toby might be in the way, so late in the afternoon she waited on the banker, who was in his private office. This was a room quite separate from the bank proper, which it adjoined and with which it was connected.
Mr. Spaythe admitted Phoebe at once and placed a chair for her with an inquiring look but no word of question. The girl knew him well, for her twin brother, Phil Daring, had once worked in Spaythe’s Bank and, in common with many others in Riverdale, the Darings had cause to respect the banker very highly.
“I am trying hard, Mr. Spaythe, to solve the mysterious disappearance of Mrs. Ritchie’s box,” she began. “I am not posing as a detective, exactly, but as an interested investigator. My object is to bring the guilty one to justice and so clear Toby’s good name. It seems like a very complicated affair and I’ve an idea you can assist me to untangle it.”
Mr. Spaythe, leaning back in his chair with his eyes fixed full upon the girl’s face, was silent for a time, evidently in deep thought. He was thinking of the time when Phoebe had handled another difficult matter in so delicate and intelligent a way that she had saved him a vast deal of sorrow and humiliation. He was a reserved man, but Phoebe Daring was the banker’s ideal of young womanhood. Finally he said quietly:
“What do you wish to know?”
“Who stole the box, for one thing,” she said, smiling at him. “But in default of that information I will welcome any detail bearing on the theft.”
He considered this a moment, gravely.
“I stole the box, for one,” said he.
Phoebe gave a great start, staring wide-eyed.
“You, Mr. Spaythe!”