He put out his hand, but Sydney did not see it in the darkness.
“Good night, Roy,” he responded.
Rex said nothing, but when Sydney’s door closed behind him, he drew Roy into his room with him.
“You must stay with me to-night, Roy,” he said, and he began taking off his coat.
“Why didn’t you speak to Syd before we came in, Reggie?”
“I couldn’t, Roy. I feel awfully sorry for him. But he’s committed a crime, and I can’t help but think all the while of Mr. Keeler’s brother.”
“It’s terrible—awful.” Roy’s face was pale; he looked almost as Sydney had looked at one time.
“What are we going to do?” Rex sat down on the edge of the bed, a despairing droop to the shoulders that he usually carried so squarely.
“We must give up everything to the rightful heir.”
“But where shall we go then? We’ve sold our house in Marley and spent the money we got for it. We’ll be worse off than we were before, Roy. Oh, dear, why did you ever look up at that trestle and see that old man crawl out on it?”