"It was a single twenty-dollar bill." Mr. Jones, who had now taken his seat, looked insultingly incredulous. "Can I ask a question?" he said, turning to Squire Marlowe. "You can." "I should like to ask Mrs. Barton where the prisoner obtained the twenty-dollar bill?" And the grocer looked around the court-room again, triumphantly. "It came from my uncle, Jacob Marlowe," answered Mrs. Barton. "Ah, that's it! Is Mr. Jacob Marlowe in town?" "No, sir." "When was he in town?" "Three or four weeks since." "When did he give you the money?" "He left a sealed envelope containing it, which we were not to open unless in case of need." "When did you first open it?" "Last evening." "Can you produce the envelope?" asked Jones, with an ironical smile. "Here it is." The envelope was taken and examined by the grocer. "There is nothing to show that this could not have been prepared by the defendant, without the knowledge of this convenient uncle," he said. "There was a note accompanying it," Mrs. Barton added. "Let me see it." "I will read it," said Mr. Conway, taking it in his hand. This note has already been quoted in Chapter XI. Mr. Jones looked somewhat nonplussed. "I am free to confess," he said, after a pause, "that I doubt the genuineness of this note. Nothing could be easier than to prepare it." "I appeal to the court to protect the witness from insult," interposed Mr. Conway. "I do not consider that she has been insulted," said Squire Marlowe coldly. "The credibility of testimony is always a matter to be considered." Mr. Jones eyed the young lawyer with a triumphant smile. "Have you any further questions to put, Mr. Jones?" added Conway. "No, sir, I am satisfied." "Then the witness may step down. I call upon Mr. Jones to take the witness stand again." "I have no objection, I am sure!" said the grocer jauntily. He saw that the judge was with him, and he confidently anticipated Bert's conviction. "From whom did you obtain the twenty-dollar bill which you charge my client with taking?" asked Mr. Conway. "From Mr. Holbrook, the landlord of the hotel." "You are sure of this?" demanded Conway sternly. "Of course I am." "And you will swear that this is the case?" "Certainly!" answered Mr. Jones aggressively, thinking it very important that he should substantiate this fact. "That will do, Mr. Jones." The grocer took his seat, feeling that he had scored a victory and foiled the lawyer. It was not long before he had occasion to change his opinion. "Mr. Holbrook," called Conway. The landlord of the Lakeville Hotel took the stand. He was a pleasant-looking, good-hearted man, and he glanced sympathetically at Bert and his mother. "Mr. Holbrook," said Conway, "do you remember paying Mr. Jones, the complainant, a twenty-dollar bill?" "Yes, sir." The grocer smiled again. Everything seemed to favor his side of the case. "For what was the payment made?" "For groceries furnished by Mr. Jones."