“No, sir; four of them I know already, so that leaves only those belonging to your drawer and the secret vault to be distinguished, and that is easily done,” Gerald replied, as he examined each key attentively.
“Very well, then, I shall look for you here again some time to-morrow forenoon. I want to get those boxes into my possession as soon as possible,” Mr. Brewster observed, with a faint but impatient sigh.
“I will try to be here some time between ten and eleven o’clock,” Gerald returned, then added, losing some of his color: “And now, Mr. Brewster, if you are not too tired, I have something to tell you about my work.”
“I am not too tired, go ahead,” said the man; whereupon Gerald gave him a brief account of the conversation that had recently passed between himself and John Hubbard, and what he had discovered afterward in connection with his work.
Mr. Brewster listened to him with growing astonishment, never once removing his eyes from the young man’s face during his recital.
“These are very strange statements, Gerald—very grave statements,” he remarked, with some sternness, as he concluded.
“They are, indeed, sir, and they involve my honor, my reputation, and, unless my past dealings with you and my assurance are sufficient guarantee to you of my integrity, the evidence is there to prove that I have been doing very crooked business in your office. The balances are all right, apparently, but the entries, if examined, would seem to be conclusive testimony that I have been systematically robbing you. Mr. Brewster, I firmly believe that those figures have been skilfully changed for the sole purpose of ruining me.”
“By whom?”
“That, of course, I cannot say positively, but I have long known that Mr. Hubbard dislikes me,” was the somewhat reluctant reply.
“Do you mean to imply that John Hubbard would doctor the accounts to injure you?” exclaimed Mr. Brewster, with a start.