"What has the skipper found, Ezra?" asked Degger, lighting another cigarette.
"A gold knife. Found it right under that winder where the burglars sawed through the bars."
"A gold knife!" repeated Lorna with interest. "They surely did not use such a tool to cut the window bars?"
"Bless ye, no, Miss Lorny! But "tis evident-an" so Tobias says-that one o" the burgulars tore it off his watch chain when he scrambled in over the winder-sill."
"Oh! It was a gold penknife? And he wore it on a watch chain like--"
Again she halted in the middle of a sentence. She paled and then flushed, flashing a sly glance at Degger. He seemed not to have noticed what she said. He was not even looking at her.
"Oh!" she whispered again, and was glad that Jackson saw her waiting and that he hurried back to the car.
"Good-day, Mr. Degger. Good-day, Mr. Crouch," she said, as Jackson got in and started the engine.
Lorna did not show Degger her face again. She continued to think about that gold penknife that had been found under the bank window. Ralph Endicott wore such a knife on his watch chain. And Degger said he had seen Ralph in town last evening-long after he was supposed to have left Clinkerport by train.
Of course, any thought linking Ralph with the mysterious penknife was ridiculous. It could not be that the most evil-intentioned tongue would dovetail Ralph"s movements with the Clinkerport Bank robbery. Yet-Lorna did not trust Conway Degger!
What would Degger say, in his sneering way, if he learned the Endicotts were impoverished and that Ralph probably had very little money left?
Ralph had been seen by Degger in the village late the previous evening-too late to have left town by train thereafter. Suppose that awful Devine girl was pressing Ralph for money and threatening to disgrace him if he did not produce it?
Was that why Ralph had left home so suddenly and mysteriously? Did he fear disgrace? Was it because he could not satisfy Cora Devine, and so close her lips?
If Degger"s story of Ralph"s misstep should be true! Supposing Degger knew Ralph was being hounded for money he could not pay, what would he say if Ralph was in the most remote way linked by suspicion to the bank robbery?
Tobias Ba.s.sett meanwhile had gained entrance to the bank after some parley with Rafe Silver, Mr. Thompson"s Portuguese servant. Arad Thompson had been skipper of a smart bark in his youth and had brought Silver back from Fayal with him on one of his voyages. Silver was a grim little man, black as aged mahogany, thin-lipped and gray of hair, wearing tiny gold rings in his ears.
"This ain"t nothing to do with my money, Rafe," Tobias said. "You tell Arad Thompson I have something to tell him about them burglars."
So, after a time, the lightkeeper was admitted. Two pale-faced and scared looking clerks were at the beck and call of the bank auditor.
The other employees of the inst.i.tution, like the general public, were shut out of the building.
In the railed-off enclosure he used as an office, and where he met the bank"s customers, Arad Thompson sat in the wheel chair, in which he spent most of his waking hours, before his table-topped desk.
He was a big-bodied man, his torso quite filling the wide-armed chair.
His withered limbs were hidden by a soft robe, the upper edge of which was never allowed to fall below his waistline.
He was a handsome man of a patriarchal cast of countenance, his genial expression enhanced by waving silvery hair and a heavy beard of the same color-that silvery hue which revealed the fact that originally the hair of head and face had been jet black.
With his ruddy cheeks and sharp gray eyes, the bank president gave abundant evidence of possessing, aside from his crippled limbs, a healthy body and a thoroughly alert brain. Arad Thompson had been studying a little red-covered memorandum book. He laid it aside as Tobias came near.
"Well, Tobias," he asked directly, "what is it? I can answer no question about the bank or its loss until the bank examiner makes his report."
"Not to say I ain"t anxious for me an" Heppy"s money-for I be. But I will say, Mr. Thompson, that "tain"t about that I want to see you."
"So Rafe tells me."
"I was wandering around back of the bank there just now with Silas Compton. We looked at the winder where them bars was sawed. I give it as my opinion, Mr. Thompson, that them burglars didn"t saw them bars in two in one night-nossir!"
"I had thought of that, Tobias," said the bank president patiently.
"Don"t look like it was just a gang of burglars that come in here last night for the first time and happened to hit it lucky."
"No. I am convinced they had advice, if not a.s.sistance, in turning the trick."
"Maybe you got your suspicions of who helped "em?" said Tobias shrewdly.
"If I have I"m not going to tell you, Tobias."
"I don"t want you should-nossir!" said the lightkeeper. "I"d just as lief not know. But I am going to show you what I picked up under that winder just now. Compton and Ez Crouch seen me."
The bank president sat up straighter. He flashed a glance at the little red book. Then he looked again at Tobias.
"What is it?"
The lightkeeper brought his hand out of his pocket and displayed the gold penknife.
"You picked that up under the window?"
"Yes."
"Any mark on it? Anything whereby the owner can be identified? Do you know, Tobias, who it belongs to?"
"Oh, sugar!" declared Tobias. "It might not have been lost by one of the burglars. Then again--"
Thompson took the knife, opened the blade, and turned the little toy over and over on his palm.
"Of course," he murmured, "there might be a dozen men wearing things like this on their watch chains--"
"Not here in Clinkerport," interposed Tobias.
"No. That"s so. But there is no identifying mark."
"Look at the chain. Drefful fine links, but awful strong."
"It is platinum. An expensive chain. Not likely, after all, to be worn by many."
"That kind of narrows suspicion down, doesn"t it?" said Tobias with some eagerness.
"It must. A platinum watch chain costs a deal of money, Tobias. There must be an excellent watch at the other end of the chain. No ordinary person would be likely to wear such an ornament. These burglars--"
"Maybe they stole it," suggested Tobias.
Thompson looked at the red book again. He wagged his bushy head, and sat, tight-lipped and thoughtful.