“Do—do you think they got a letter, too?” asked the girl.
“Of course; just as before; and they’ve lost no time in acting upon it,” was the grim response.
Lawyer Kellogg came up, triumphantly waving his hand, in which was clasped an oblong packet.
“We’ve got it!” he cried, his round fat face well depicting his joy. “We’ve found the money and bonds where Clark hid ’em.”
“Clark?” replied Phoebe, coldly. “How dare you make such a statement? Toby Clark had nothing to do with hiding that money, and you know it.”
“He’ll get his stripes for it, just the same,” declared the little lawyer. “I’ve got plenty of witnesses, and the finding of this property will settle Toby Clark’s case for good and all. There’s no power on earth can save him now.”
The banker was staring fixedly at Sam Parsons, the only one of Kellogg’s party who was not jubilant.
“Well?” he asked.
“The money was there, all right,” growled the constable; “but Toby didn’t put it there.”
“Of course not,” said Phoebe; “no more than he put that blue box in the rubbish heap.”