"Which comes from your brother
"SAMUEL.
"P.S. - Do not forget the small account for disbursements."
Da Souza folded up the letter, and a look of peace shone in his face.
Presently he climbed the stairs to a little back-room and noiselessly
unlocked the door. Monty, with pale face and bloodshot eyes, was
walking up and down, mumbling to himself. He addressed Da Souza
eagerly.
"I think I will go away now," he said. "I am very much obliged to
you for looking after me."
Da Souza gazed at him with well-affected gravity. "One moment
first," he said, "didn't I understand you that you had just come
from Africa?"
Monty nodded.
"The Gold Coast?"
Monty nodded again, but with less confidence.
"By any chance - were you called Monty there?"
Monty turned ghastly pale. Surely his last sin had not found him
out. He was silent, but there was no need for speech. Da Souza
motioned him to sit down.
"I am very sorry," he said, "of course it's true. The police have
been here."
"The police!" Monty moaned.
Da Souza nodded. Benevolence was so rare a part for him to play,
that he rather enjoyed it.
"Don't be scared," he said. "Yes, your description is out, and you
are wanted for stealing a few pounds from a man named Walsh.
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