Part 30 (2/2)
”She changed a bill with you, didn't she?”
”Jefers-pelters! was it counterfeit?” put in Walky, drawing nearer.
”A twenty dollar bill--yes, sir,” said the storekeeper.
”Did you give her a gold piece--a ten dollar gold piece--in the change?” shot in Ma.s.sey, his voice shaking.
”Why--yes.”
”Is this it?” and the druggist slapped a gold coin down on the counter between them.
Hopewell picked up the coin, turned it over in his hand, holding it close to his near-sighted eyes. Nothing could ever hurry Hopewell Drugg in speech.
”Why--yes,” he said again. ”I guess so.”
”But look at the date, man!” shouted Ma.s.sey. ”Don't you see the date on it?”
Amazed, Drugg repeated the date aloud, reading it carefully from the coin. ”Why, yes, that's the date, sir,” said the storekeeper.
”Don't ye know that's one of the rarest issues of ten dollar coins in existence? Somethin' happened to the die: they only issued a few,”
Ma.s.sey stammered. ”Where'd you git it, Hopewell?”
”Why--why--Is it valuable?” asked Hopewell. ”A rare coin, you say?”
”Rare!” shouted Ma.s.sey. ”Yes, I tell ye! It's rare. There ain't but a few in existence. Mr. Hobart told me when he brought them coins over here that night. And he pointed one of them out to me in that collection. Where did you get this one, Hopewell--where'd you get it, I say?”
And on completing the demand he turned sharply and stared with his blinking, red eyes directly at Nelson Haley.
CHAPTER XX
SUSPICIONS
”Why--why--why----” stammered Hopewell Drugg, and could say no more.
The others had noted Ma.s.sey's accusing glance at the schoolmaster; but not even Walky Dexter commented upon it at the moment.
”Come, Hopewell!” exclaimed the druggist; ”where did you get it?”
”Where--where did I get the gold piece?” repeated the storekeeper, weakly.
”Yes. Who paid it in to you? Hi, man! surely you don't think for a moment I accuse you of having stolen the coin collection--or having guilty knowledge of the theft?”
”Oh, Mr. Ma.s.sey! what are you saying?” cried the storekeeper's wife.
”The coins?” whispered Hopewell. ”Is that one of them?”
”Jefers-pelters!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Walky, ”Here's a purty mess.”
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