"He'd not let me wait an instant; sent me off here before I'd well tasted my soup," grumbled Mr. Yorke. "One of you had better come and see him if the cheque has been lost and cashed; or he'll ask me five hundred questions which I can't answer, and fret himself into a fit. He has had one fit, you know. As to the cheque, it must have got into the hands of some clever thief, who made haste to reap the benefit of it."
"And your desk must have been picked, Bede, if you are sure you put it in," observed Mr. Greatorex.
"I'm sure of that," answered Bede. "But I don't see how the desk can have been picked. Not a thing in it was displaced, and the lock is uninjured."
Bede had a frightful headache--which was the cause of his looking somewhat worse than usual that evening, so Mr. Greatorex went to Sir Richard Yorke's. And in coming home he passed round by Scotland Yard.
On the following morning, sitting in his room, he held a conference with his two sons, whom he had not seen on his return the previous night.
"They think at Scotland Yard it must inevitably have been one of the clerks in your room, Bede," said Mr. Greatorex.
"One would think it, but that it seems so very unlikely," answered Bede. "Brown and Jenner have been with us quite long enough for their honesty to be proved; and the other two are gentlemen."
"Their theory is this; that someone, possessing easy access to your private room, opened the desk with a false key."
"For the matter of that, the clerks on our side the house could obtain nearly if not quite as easy access to Bede's room through its other door," observed Frank Greatorex.
"Yes. But you forget, Frank, that none of them on our side the house knew of the cheque having been drawn out and left there. Jelf will be in by-and-by."