Monday morning, although the unpleasant event of the previous night seemed to Burton more than ever to be an unreal remembrance, he resolved to carry out his intention. He knew that the action was one his father would hardly commend; his father had old-fashioned Ontario ideas about carrying revolvers; but the situation was unusual, and he felt justified in taking such measures as he could for his own protection. Accordingly, on his way to the store he stopped at a hardware, and spent some time selecting a modest weapon which he felt could be depended upon in case of emergency. He pretended to the clerk that he wanted to try his marksmanship on the gophers; secured a box of cartridges, and put the loaded weapon in his pocket.
As he neared Gardiner’s store he felt in his pockets for his keys. They were gone! He hesitated a moment, and recalled having used them the night before; then, seeing the door was opened, he entered.
Gardiner was in the office at the back of the store.
“Burton, come here, please,” he called. His voice seemed strained and hollow, and as Burton’s eyes accustomed themselves to the store’s comparative darkness after the bright light outside, he saw that his employer’s face was as colourless as death.
“Why, what is the matter? Are you unwell?” cried Burton in alarm.
Gardiner steadied himself against a chair, and after one or two attempts to speak whispered hoarsely, “The package is gone.”
“Gone!” cried Burton, and would have walked to the safe, but Gardiner stopped him.
“Just a minute,” he said, having somewhat recovered his composure; “I want to ask you a question or two.”
Burton stopped and faced his employer unflinchingly.
Burton hesitated. “Oh, yes,” he said at length, “I did. When I came to the door I couldn’t find my keys.”
“Do you identify those?” asked Gardiner, holding up a ring having several keys attached.
“Unfortunately not. They hung in the lock of the cash compartment. Burton, whoever took that money used those keys!”
The young man looked at his employer as though his eyes would pierce him through. “Gardiner,” he said, in a hard, cold voice that seemed to be coming from the depths of some terrible emotion, “do you accuse me of this?”
It was the first time he had ever omitted the mister in addressing his employer. He was speaking now as man to man.