“Have you that slip of paper which the man gave you before departing?”
“Yes,” said he.
“Let me have it, if you please.”
The young man with an agitated look, plunged his hand into his pocket, drew out the small note and laid it on the table between them. Mr. Sylvester let it lie, and again there was a silence.
“If this had happened at any other time,” Bertram pursued, “one could afford to let the man have his say; but now, just as this other mystery has come up—”
“I don’t believe in submitting to blackmail,” came from his uncle in short, quick tones.
Bertram gave a start. “You then advise me to leave him alone?” asked he, with unmistakable emotion.
His uncle dropped the hand which till now he had held before his face, and hastily confronted his nephew. “You will have enough to do to attend to the other matter without bestowing any time or attention upon this. The man that robbed Mr. Stuyvesant’s box, can be found and must. It is the one indispensable business to which I now delegate you. No amount of money and no amount of diligence is to be spared. I rely on you to carry the affair to a successful termination. Will you undertake the task?”
“Can you ask?” murmured the young man, with a shocked look at his uncle’s changed expression.
“As to this other matter, we will let it rest for tonight. Tomorrow’s revelations may be more favorable than we expect. At all events let us try and get a little rest now; I am sure we are both in a condition to need it.”