So regularly did they end their outings with a dinner at the Seal Rock
House that Alice always knew where to find her husband in case some
clamorous client sought Benito's aid. And tonight as an attendant called
his name he answered with no other thought than that he would be asked
to make a will or soothe some jealous and importunate wife who wanted a
divorce without delay. They usually did want them that way. He rose,
leisurely enough, and made his way to the door. There, instead of the
usual messenger boy, stood Alice.
"You must come at once," she panted. "Robert has been robbed of an
important letter to the bank. They talk of arresting him.... Ralston
wants you at his office."
CHAPTER LXIII
LEES SOLVES A MYSTERY
In the president's office at the Bank of California, Benito found his
son, pale but intrepid. He was being questioned by William Sharon and a
postoffice inspector. Ralston, hands crammed into trousers pockets,
paced the room disturbedly.
"You admit, then, that the envelope was given you?" Sharon was asking
truculently as Benito entered.
"Yes," said Robert, "I remember seeing such a letter as I packed my
mail."
"Humph!" exclaimed Sharon.
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