‘The old man,’ he continued, ‘is employing you to find out who broke into his office; but not so much for that as to find out about some forged bills. Well, I know all about the burglary, and pretty near all about the bills. The breaking-in was more in my way, as you know; but I could not do that without learning a good deal about the other.—Mr Holdrey, I have been badly used; the man who is deepest in the job has treated me shabbily, and means to act worse, I can see; so I must tell some one whom I can trust, and who will be honest with me. You know what my pals are, and that I cannot ask them, though some of them would be as true as the day; so I sent for you. Besides, you spoke up for me and helped me when you could get nothing by it. I would trust you for that good turn alone; and without it I would have trusted you, knowing your character. But I say again and again, there are not many who would have acted as you did. There’s a reward out, on the quiet, for this robbery; you can get it through me.—You know my wife, don’t you?’ I had seen her once or twice, and so I told him. ‘Well, she has been badly used in this affair; so have I; but I meant the money for her—I did honestly, to take her away where she was not known, and no one could bring her convict husband up against her, after he was sent off to Portland. Now, all I ask is, will you see to her and the young one, and share the reward with them? I don’t ask you to do anything which may seem in the least wrong, but so far as you can, consistent with your character as a man, very different from me, help her—will you do it? And will you share what reward you get?’ I did not see that there could be much harm in promising this, and on my saying so, Sam was at once satisfied. ‘Then here goes,’ he said. ‘These bills were forged by a friend of young Harleston—step-son to old Thurles, you know—but I am inclined to think the young fellow never got any of the money. He does not say so himself; but I have heard a little from others.’