Rymer was standing at his door still. The shop was empty, and there were no ears near. Tod lowered his voice, though.
“The truth is, Mr. Rymer, that the note, substituted in the letter for ours, was one of those two lost by the butcher at Tewkesbury. I conclude you heard of the robbery.”
“One of those two!” exclaimed Rymer.
“Yes: Salmon at South Crabb recognized it yesterday when we were asking him to give change for it.”
“But why not have told me this at once, Mr. Joseph?”
“Because the Squire and Cole, laying their wise heads together this morning, thought it might be better not to let that get abroad: it would put people on their guard, they said. You see now where the motive lay for exchanging the notes.”
“Of course I do,” said Mr. Rymer in his quiet way. “But it is very unaccountable. I cannot imagine where the treason lies.”
“Not on this side, seemingly,” remarked Tod: “The letter appears to have passed through no one’s hands but Lee’s: and he is safe.”
“Safe and sure. It must have been accomplished at Worcester. Or—in the railway train,” he slowly added. “I have heard of such things.”
“You had better keep counsel at present as to the stolen note, Mr. Rymer.”