“Is it an assay of ore?”
“Of cigarette ashes.”
Cupell jumped from his chair.
“Great heavens!” he exclaimed. “Can it be possible that—— No, no! You are wrong, Mr. Carter. Gillman has worked for me for two years and he’s as straight as a string.”
“How long will it take you to make the assay?”
“An hour.”
“Then send Gillman out somewhere for an hour. Be sure and have him come back here this afternoon, however, and don’t give him cause to think that there is anything wrong. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“All right. I will return presently.”
Nick put the silver match case in the assayer’s hands and left the office.