"If it could I should
not have come, knowing as I did of your dreadful sorrow!"
Again the thrill of surprise shook the man's every fibre. Another of his
victims had remembered that it was his day of grief, and the very tones
spoke of sympathy for his affliction.
"Well, then, what is it?" He spoke with some of his old sternness.
"Speak out, Watkins; you know my habits. I always expect promptness in
these errands."
"But this is purely personal, sir!" answered Mr. Watkins, sadly. "I have
come to see you about that five hundred dollars that was taken from your
desk last Monday morning."
"What of it?" asked Mr. Forbes with much of his old interest returning.
He had been too long a slave to money to loose the bondage immediately.
Mr. Watkins was trembling now so that he could hardly speak. In his
weak condition of health the recent deluge of trouble was telling upon
him.
"She took it, I suppose, that girl that I employed that morning," said
Mr. Forbes, trying to hurry matters. "Has anything been done? I told
Hardy to look after it."
He picked up Faith's letter again and glanced at it absently. When he
saw the name he dropped it as if it had stung him.
A great wave of color purpled his heavy face, and instantly he was the
same old tyrant, raging furiously at the creatures whom fate had made
his victims.
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