"Did any one know he had it in his office?" I asked.
"Only Rathe and I, so far as we know, though of course there might have been others."
"Rathe! And where was he that night?"
"He stopped here, and never left the house. He appears greatly worried, claiming the loss will ruin his business and discredit him forever."
"The sneak! I don't believe he cares—or if anything, is glad of it. How much money was there?" I asked, feeling that every inquiry made the case look the worse for Uncle Job.
"Ten thousand dollars," he answered, reflectively; "a fortune here."
"How could he hide so much money?" I asked, remembering the great stacks of bills my father used to bring home and the trouble mother and he had in secreting them about the house.
"It was mostly in big bills, with some gold and silver."
"Did you see it?"
"Yes, but only casually, as he and Rathe sealed it up."