Fletcher felt that he had cut a poor figure, and was eager to retrieve his reputation; he had another shot in his locker, but to use this would extinguish his last chance to stand well with Ena. He glanced at her and hesitated. Andrews rose to his feet.
“Your story has been quite interesting, and as far as I am concerned, convincing,” he said holding out his hand. “You could not have done otherwise than you have done.”
“One moment,” said Fletcher, having made his decision. “Mr. Sefton, can you explain with equal ease how it was that you changed a five pound note at the Black Horse with Southgate which was one of those stolen from Lord Reckavile?”
There was an ominous silence in the room; Ena’s eyes flashed, while Andrews looked at the floor, marvelling at the crudity of the question, but Sefton remained calm.
“If you had asked your question in a less offensive manner, I would have answered you; now you can find out for yourself.”
He saw the look of pain in Ena’s eyes, and remembered how worried she had been about the money.
“But for my sister’s sake I will tell you,” he added. “I have only changed one such note at the Black Horse, and that was for old Giles. He asked me whether I could change it for him, and I did so. You can ask him yourself.”
“Humph,” said Fletcher, “we shall see about that,” and he rose. “Come on, Andrews, we shall do no more with these people.”
Chapter XII.
The Unknown Speaker
The whole case was getting on Fletcher’s nerves. He had paid a visit to Giles, to follow up the clue about the money.