The guardian swallowed a lump in his throat, and his face was as white as a sheet.
“Did you want to make it appear that you had invested it in a salted mine, after an investigation that was seemingly sincere, and had lost it in that way?”
No answer came from the pallid wretch in the chair.
“What was to be your share of the money to be secured from Cooper and Bingham?”
Still no answer.
“Horace Montgomery, you are a thief!”
CHAPTER XIII.
A NECESSARY CRUELTY.
Nick was on his feet in front of the cowering man, pointing one finger at him.
Montgomery merely writhed in his seat, but did not say a word.
“But that is not the worst,” went on the detective, mercilessly. “You know that your nephew, John Lansing, started for Boston on Monday night, by the Fall River boat.”