“Now that you speak of it, she did say that they were in her father’s safe.” Latimer eyed John Hale sharply. “What are you driving at?”
“Simply this, that if Richards was in your front office with the bonds in his possession, they could not have been where Judith thought them—in her father’s safe. Secondly,”—and John Hale’s voice deepened—“there was no time for Judith to return home, get the bonds and give them to Richards before he sold them to your clerk here in your outer office. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” Latimer’s worried look returned. “By Jove, you think—?”
“That Judith has discovered that her bonds are missing.”
“Do you suppose your brother told her?”
“I hardly think so, for he swore me to secrecy,” replied John Hale. “No, Judith must have gone to get the bonds and found them missing from the safe.”
“But, good Lord! How did she know that her husband had brought the bonds to me?” demanded Latimer.
“Ask me something easy.” Hale swung his cane around and stepped briskly to the door. “But depend on it, Frank, I’ll find an answer to that question before I’m many hours older.” And he banged out of the door.
Latimer strode thoughtfully up and down his office, then reseated himself at his desk.
“What’s come over John?” he muttered. “He seemed anxious,”—he paused—“no, more than anxious,—determined,—to fix the guilt on Joe Richards.”