Pierre Dufour looked on in amazement, and murmured, “Ma foi, what ees this?”
For an instant, Colonel Ellison remained silent. Then, clearing his throat, he held out his hand.
“Redfern,” he said, frankly, “a man should always be willing to acknowledge his mistakes. I ask your pardon for having wrongly suspected you.”
“And I freely give it,” exclaimed the happy Redfern. “I will admit that appearances were against me. But, Mosley, how in the world did all this come about?”
“Well, to continue our story: I was, at the time, a professor at Ripley and expected you, also, to join the staff. Unfortunately, President Blackwell considered you—shall I say it?—guilty. And that ended your chances.”
“Yes,” said Redfern, “I have been only too well aware of that.”
“But I had confidence in you; and was determined to prove that it was well placed. I advertised freely, and——”
“You did?”
“Yes, sir! And in my spare time investigated to the best of my ability. Nothing resulted, and I got a bit discouraged. But I don’t believe in giving up easily. Several times, at intervals, I went back to the restaurant, made inquiries and kept the matter fresh in their minds. Then what should happen? A few days ago, I got a letter; and it made me jump.”
“How can I ever thank you enough?” murmured Redfern.