“Have you ever seen this before?” he asked, holding out the long missing article in question.
“Why, Jack!” Mr. Holden looked from the bag to his son’s merry face. “Where did that come from?”
“Open it, Dad!”
With trembling fingers Mr. Holden obeyed, and his gaze fell on the contents.
“There’s none missing,” said the boy, unable to keep up the game any longer. “And it was on my sloop all the time!”
“I—I don’t understand!” said Mr. Holden.
“Of course you don’t!” laughed Jack. “It kept us all guessing for a long while.” And then he explained everything, while his father, the precious bag of money on his knees, listened.
“When those two men go to prison for the theft—and they are going—” he concluded, “your name will be cleared completely, Dad, won’t it?”
“Aye,” replied Mr. Holden. “Even Barker won’t be able to insinuate things then.”
There came a rap at the street door, and George and Rodney came hurrying up the stairs. “Well, they haven’t spoilt your beauty, anyway,” exclaimed George. “I was afraid you’d got your nose shot off or something. How’s your leg?”