As he was on his way back to New York, Larry thought of many things. Clearly something must be done at once. He must see Mr. Bentfield. Probably the banker would order the clerk’s arrest, when he learned of the false moustache, and the thousand-dollar bill.
“And I’ll get a great story!” thought the young reporter. “I’m sorry for the poor fellow, though. Maybe the temptation was more than he could stand. A million dollars is a lot of money.”
On reaching New York, Larry called Mr. Bentfield up on the telephone, giving a hint of the disclosure he had to make.
“I’d like to have a talk with you, Mr. Bentfield,” said Larry, over the wire. “Shall I call at your house?”
“No, I had rather meet you at the bank. I know it’s rather late, but we can be undisturbed there. I’ll have my lawyer with me, and, if necessary to act, we can do so from there. Besides, Witherby won’t be back until morning. I’ll telephone the watchman at the bank to admit you. Go in, and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
“All right,” answered Larry, and he started for the bank in Wall street.
CHAPTER XVII
BEHIND THE OLD BOOKS
“Now, Larry, tell us all about it,” invited Mr. Bentfield a little later, when, with his lawyer, he had greeted the young reporter in his private office of the bank. It was past midnight, and, had any one looked into that room, he might have wondered what brought the three there, to hold a secret conference.
“Well, I made two strange discoveries,” Larry answered. “I think, Mr. Bentfield, that we are about at the end of the trail. I can’t promise you the million dollars, but I believe I can name the thief. He’s the one I have suspected from the first. Now for my evidence.”
Larry quickly went over all his work on the bank mystery case from the beginning. Then he gave more details of his location of the tell-tale bricks, so near Witherby’s boarding place, telling of seeing the man at the window, trying on the false beard.