"That might have been a blind," retorted Naball quickly, "but you talk of money being stolen; I think, Mr. Stewart, in your evidence to-day you said they were bank notes?" "Yes; twenty ten-pound notes," replied Keith. "Do you know the numbers of them?" "No; I never thought of taking the numbers." "And you handed them to Mr. Lazarus?" "I did; at half-past five--he put them in his safe." "Were there any other valuables in the safe?" "I don't know," retorted Keith coldly; "I was not in the confidence of my employer." "Do you know?" said Naball, turning to Ezra. The young Jew smiled bitterly. "I also was not in my father's confidence," he said, "so know nothing." "There was some gold and silver money also in the safe," said Keith to Naball, knocking the ashes off his cigarette. "Humph! that's not much guide," replied the detective; "it's the notes I want--if I could only find the numbers of those notes--where did they come from?" "A man at Ballarat, called Forbes." "Oh! I'll write to Mr. Forbes of Ballarat," said Naball, making a note, "but if those notes are put in circulation, do you know of any means by which I can identify them?" Keith shook his head, then suddenly gave a cry. "Yes; I can tell you how to identify one of the notes." "That will be quite sufficient," said the detective eagerly. "How?" "That boy, Isaiah," said Stewart, "he's great on backing horses, and frequently tells me about racing. When I was making up my cash on that night, the notes were lying on the desk, and as the door of Mr. Lazarus' room was open, Isaiah was afraid to speak aloud about his tip, so he wrote it down." "But how can that identify the bank-note?" asked the perplexed detective. "Because the young scamp wrote his tip, 'Back Flat-Iron,' on the back of a ten-pound note." "In pencil?" asked Naball. "No; in ink!" "So one of the notes that were stolen has the inscription 'Back Flat-Iron' on the back of it?" "Exactly!" Naball scribbled a line or two in his pocket-book, and shut it with a snap. "If that note goes into circulation," he said, in a satisfied tone, "I'll soon trace it to its original holder." "And then?" asked Ezra. "And then," reiterated Naball quietly, "I'll lay my hands on the man who killed your father. And now, Mr. Stewart, I want to ask you a few questions about yourself." "Go on!" said Keith imperturbably; "I hope you don't think I killed Lazarus?" "I think--nothing," replied Naball quietly; "I only want to find out as much as I can. You were at the Bon-Bon Theatre on that night?" "Yes; talking to Mr. Mortimer." "Any one else with you?" "Yes," replied Ezra, "I was, and Caprice; we left about half-past eleven." "And you, Mr. Stewart?" "I left at half-past twelve." "Where did you go then?" "I was excited over some business I had done, and strolled about the city." "Anywhere in particular?"