Then he resumed.
"One night late--it was after midnight--I was taking a walk,
having just closed my saloon, when it happened that my steps led
by the bank. It was dark--not a soul probably in the village
was awake save myself, when I saw the door of the bank open
and a muffled figure came out with a tin box under his arm.
I came closer, yet unobserved, and peered at the person.
I recognized him."
"You recognized him?" repeated the squire, mechanically, his
face pale and drawn.
"Yes; do you want to know who it was?"
Prince Duncan stared at him, but did not utter a word.
"It was you, the president of the bank!" continued Denton.
"Nonsense, man!" said Duncan, trying to regain his self-control.
"It is not nonsense. I can swear to it."
"I mean that it is nonsense about the robbery. I visited the
bank to withdraw a box of my own."
"Of course you can make that statement before the court?"
said Tony Denton, coolly.
"But--but--you won't think of mentioning this circumstance?"
muttered the squire.
"Will you pay Randolph's bill?"
"Yes--yes; I'll draw a check at once."
"So far, so good; but it isn't far enough.
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