Instantly the expression on Brockey’s face changed.
A look of terror came over it.
It had not occurred to him before that the money might have belonged to the man who was killed at the Red Dragon Inn.
“Do you understand?” Carter asked at length, when Brockey made no reply.
“I understand,” the rascal said, with a gasp.
“If you should have one of those bills on you, and if it should be identified as belonging to Lawrence, then, if I were so inclined, I could fix the murder on you.”
“You would not do that?”
“No, I would not.”
“I have some of the money.”
“Is it in your pocket?”