“By whom?” gasped Mrs. Hale; her face was ashen in color.
“I leave that conundrum to the police,” replied Richards. “It was but a suggestion.”
“Which carries no weight,” retorted John Hale. “This watch isn’t the only thing we have on you, Richards.” He turned to his brother. “What was stolen from your safe on Tuesday night?”
Mrs. Hale’s sudden start was lost on her husband. Hale looked at Richards queerly, thought a minute, then answered with brevity.
“Ten bonds of the Troy Valve Company belonging to Judith.”
“And those bonds, Richards, you sold to cover your losses in speculation,” declared John Hale.
Richards contemplated the two brothers in thunderstruck silence.
“You say that Judith had Valve bonds in your safe which were stolen on Tuesday night, Mr. Hale?” he demanded of the elder brother.
“Yes.”
“So it was your wife’s bonds which you first stole and then sold”—John Hale was enjoying himself. He had caught the hunted look in Richards’ eyes. Turning, he winked at Ferguson, and when he again faced Richards, the latter had himself well in hand.