“Indeed! but how did you pass all these barriers?” with a nod backward over his shoulder.
“Why, by means of these keys, which Mr. Brewster himself gave to me, when he asked me to perform this errand for him,” the young man responded, as he held up the bunch by the ring, and which Mr. Hubbard instantly recognized as belonging to the banker.
“When did you see Mr. Brewster?” he questioned, a look of perplexity flashing over his face.
“Yesterday afternoon—he sent for me to go to him,” Gerald explained.
“H’m!” ejaculated the expert, with a frown. Then, after a moment of thought, he added: “What is in those boxes?”
Again Gerald flushed. Then he threw back his handsome head haughtily.
“Excuse me,” he said freezingly, “but that is a question which Mr. Brewster alone is qualified to answer.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed his companion, but with so weird a note in the sound, which echoed and re-echoed mockingly through the vault, that Gerald’s blood almost seemed to congeal in his veins. “You are very non-committal, my fine fellow,” he continued, with a snarl, “but do you dare to tell me that you don’t know what either of those boxes contains?”
“I must decline to discuss the matter with you, Mr. Hubbard,” was the terse reply.
“Indeed!” sneered his companion. Then he observed, served, authoritatively, as he went a step nearer Gerald. “Very well, we won’t discuss it; but since I am Mr. Brewster’s attorney, I will relieve you of all further care of them. Give them to me.”