Audrey was too much disturbed to remember. But the two set their memories to work, and consulted the servant who formed the whole of their modest staff, and finally they ascertained that, if anybody but themselves had been in the flat on the particular Saturday in question, it was either old Mrs. Webster, a neighbour, or Mr. Candover, a rich friend who had a handsome flat in Victoria Street, and who sometimes brought his motor-car round on Saturdays to take them for a spin into the country. Both these people being beyond suspicion, the young people, after a few moments of silent dismay and perplexity, turned their thoughts again to what had happened at the office. “Go on with what they said,” said Audrey in a frightened whisper. “Well, it seems that Sir Richmond, in taking out his cheque-book yesterday, found that a cheque was missing, with the blank counterfoil left in the book. This made him examine the cheque-book, and he found that there were two others missing, in different parts of the book. Then he remembered, or thought he remembered, having noticed, when I gave it to him, that one end of the long envelope it was in was only half gummed. Now he thinks that some one must have opened the envelope--that could be easily done over hot water, of course--and torn out the three cheques.” “But what does that matter? Cheques are numbered, aren’t they? Can’t they be stopped?” Gerard shook his head. “Sir Richmond wired up for his pass-book, and found that the three missing cheques _had_ been paid in, without any doubt being roused as to the genuineness of the signature. One was for five hundred and sixty pounds and the other two for more. Altogether he has been robbed of nearly three thousand pounds.” “Oh, Gerard, how dreadful! But still he ought not to be so wicked and unfair as to blame you. How could you help it? Of course it’s some one in his own house who has stolen the cheques and forged his name!” “Well, he denies the possibility of that. He’s an old fidget, and his secretary, a woman, is never allowed to touch his keys, so he says, or to go near the safe where he keeps his cheque-books and his money.” “And who were the cheques made out to?” “The names are all unknown, made up, they think. Not one of the cheques was crossed; they were all paid in, all properly endorsed. But the endorsements are not much of a clue, so they say, because they believe the names to be fictitious.” “And didn’t the large sums excite suspicion?” said Audrey. “Oh, no. Sir Richmond is well known for his charities, and we cash large cheques of his to people we’ve never heard of often enough. The whole thing is a ghastly mystery, a puzzle from beginning to end.” “Look here, Gerard, I suppose we’re alarming ourselves too much. The truth must be found out presently; they’ll have clever detectives at work, and I daresay they’ll have found out all about it by the time you go to the bank to-morrow morning.”