“Yes; he was obliged to do that, you know.”
Phoebe was gradually recovering her composure.
“He can be bailed out, I suppose,” she suggested.
Mr. Spaythe turned to the lawyer.
“That is what I have come to see you about, Mr. Holbrook,” he said. “Since this remarkable development in the matter of the missing box, I shall be obliged to employ counsel. I would like to engage you to defend Toby Clark.”
The young man bowed.
“I am fortunate, sir, to have so important a case brought to me so early in my career,” he replied. “I will do my best for your protegè, I assure you.”
“Toby Clark is no protegè of mine,” declared the banker sternly. “But,” he added, more mildly, “he was Judge Ferguson’s protegè and I believe the boy incapable of this alleged theft. Therefore I propose he shall be properly defended. I will be personally responsible for your fee, Mr. Holbrook.”
“That is quite satisfactory to me, sir.”
“But about the bail,” cried Janet impatiently. “We cannot allow Toby to remain in that dreadful jail!”