“What's the matter, Jerome?” Elmira whispered.
“I'm afraid there may be something wrong with the money. I'm going to find it out before he does, if there is.”
There was a little padlock on the trunk, but it was tied together with a bit of leather shoestring, not locked. Jerome took out his jack-knife, cut the string, and opened the trunk. Elmira held the candle while he examined the contents. There was a large old wallet stuffed with bank-notes, also several parcels of them tied up carefully.
“It's just as I thought,” Jerome muttered.
“What?”
“Some of the money is gone. The gold isn't here. It might have been the man who roomed with him at Hayes's Tavern. There have been queer things done there before now. All I wonder is, he didn't take it all.”
“Oh, Jerome, it isn't gone?”
“Yes, the gold is gone. Here is the bag it was in. The thief left that. Suppose he thought he might be traced by it.”
“Oh, poor father, poor father, what will he do!” moaned Elmira.
“He'll do nothing. He'll never know it,” said Jerome.