It took him a little time to collect himself and gather all the significance of this thing. Bit by bit it came to him that a deed had been done by some person which was nothing more or less than the theft of forty pounds; for that was the amount of the bill. The money had been given to him in cash—he remembered that. Usually debts were paid by cheque, but now and then, when there was a good deal of cash in the office, payments were made in this way; but when this method was employed, it was always North or himself who was entrusted with the money.
A burning flush rose to Oscar’s cheek. He strove to recall what he had done with that forty odd pounds. He had no recollection of going to that place himself with the money. He must have entrusted it to somebody else, in that easy-going way of which North had warned him more than once.
Oscar thrust his hands through his hair, and racked his brains desperately. He saw at once what a terrible temptation he had put in somebody’s way. It had hardly occurred to him as yet that he might fall under suspicion himself; but he realised that through his easy-going carelessness—his way of trusting the other clerks with business given him to do, and doing theirs in exchange—he had been the cause of a serious monetary loss to his uncle, and had enabled somebody to embezzle money and perhaps lay the foundation of a career of crime.
It was a terrible thought. But who—who was the culprit? Careless as Oscar knew himself to be, it did not yet seem to him that he would readily have put so large a sum of cash into the hands of a young clerk, and yet he had never suspected one of them of the smallest deflection from rectitude, and certainly he had given it to somebody.
He looked at the date of the false receipt. It was just after the death of Curtis, when the office was in some confusion and the pressure of work heavy. He might well have overlooked the memory of the transaction. And yet he did seem to have some floating impression of a talk with somebody about the payment of the bill, and he distinctly remembered filing the receipt and making the entry in the ledger.
But to whom had he given the money?
He pulled out the tiny pocket diary he carried, where he just dotted down notes of things to be told to Sheila. He found the day in question, and noted the initial C. in one corner.
That meant that Cyril had been helping them. He remembered he had told Sheila of the condescension of the great ’Varsity man! And then with a start it came over him. Could it have been Cyril who had paid the bill? Or at least who had taken the money to do so, and brought back the supposed receipt?
Oscar’s heart beat thick and fast. He buried his face in his hands and thought. Slowly there seemed to come to him some such recollection, but was it only imagination? He remembered the pressure of that day. He remembered his uncle coming in and out with various orders. He remembered the money being given him with instructions to pay the bill at once; but there absolute memory failed him. Yet Oscar thought he would remember had he entrusted another with the task, though had Cyril offered in his easy way to go and pay the bill, most likely he would have agreed without a second thought. As he pondered the matter over and over, it seemed to grow clearer in his mind that Cyril had taken the matter into his own hands; but the very thought of this struck him with a sort of terror. Cyril was a son of the house. He was still the favourite of his parents. They would never, never believe such a thing of him. It would be almost impossible even to suggest it. And then Oscar could not be certain that he remembered the circumstance, only fleeting visions passed before his mind’s eye, together with the conviction that he would not have so easily forgotten the matter had not Cyril or North been his substitute. If he had made over the money to a brother clerk, he felt certain he would have recollected the matter.
And whilst he was in the midst of these troubled cogitations, who should come in but Cyril himself.