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to take an early opportunity to write to his good friend, Dr. Kent, an account of his present position. He would have done so before, but had hesitated from the fear that in some way the intelligence would reach Abner Holden, whom he preferred to leave in ignorance of all that concerned him.

These thoughts passed through Herbert's mind as he went about his daily work. Meanwhile, a painful experience awaited him, for which he was not in the least prepared.

About one o'clock a gentleman entered the counting-room hastily, and said, β€œMr. Godfrey, I wonder whether I happened to leave my pocketbook anywhere about your office when I was here an hour ago?”

β€œI don't think so. When did you miss it?”

β€œA few minutes since. I went to a restaurant to get a lunch, and, on finishing it, felt for my pocketbook, and found it gone.”

β€œWas there much in it?”

β€œNo sum of any consequence. Between twenty and thirty dollars, I believe. There were, however, some papers of value, which I shall be sorry to lose.”

β€œI hardly think you could have left it here. However, I will inquire. Mr. Pratt, have you seen anything of Mr. Walton's pocketbook?”

β€œNo, sir,” said the bookkeeper, promptly.

β€œHerbert, have you seen it?”

β€œNo, sir,” said our hero.

β€œThomas?”

Tom Stanton was assailed by a sudden and dangerous temptation. His dislike to Herbert had been increased in various ways, and especially had been rendered more intense by the independent tone assumed by our hero in the conversation which had taken place between them that very morning. Now, here was an opportunity of getting him into disgrace, and probably cause him to lose his situation. True, he would have to tell a falsehood, but Tom had never been a scrupulous lover of truth, and would violate it for a less object without any particular compunction.

He hesitated when the question was asked him, and thus, as he expected, fixed Mr. Godfrey's attention.

β€œWhy don't you answer, Thomas?” he said, in surprise.

β€œI don't like to,” said Tom, artfully.

β€œWhy not?” demanded his employer, suspiciously.

β€œBecause I don't want to get anybody into trouble.”

β€œSpeak out what you mean.”

β€œIf you insist upon it,” said Tom, with pretended reluctance, β€œI suppose I must obey you.”

β€œOf course, if any wrong has been done, it is your duty to expose it.”

β€œThen, sir,” said Tom. β€œI saw Mason pick up a wallet from the floor, and put it in his pocket just after the gentleman went out. He did it so quickly that no one probably observed it but myself.”

Herbert listened to this accusation as if stunned. It was utterly beyond his conception how anyone could be guilty of such a deliberate falsehood as he had just listened to. So he remained silent, and this operated against him.

β€œHerbert,” said Mr. Godfrey, mildly, for he was unwilling to believe our hero guilty of intentional dishonesty, β€œyou should have mentioned having found the pocketbook.”

β€œSo I would, sir,” said Herbert, having found his voice at last, β€œif I had found one.”

β€œDo you mean to say that you have not?” demanded Mr. Godfrey, with a searching look.

β€œYes, sir,” said Herbert, firmly.

β€œWhat, then, does Thomas mean when he asserts that he saw you do so?”

β€œI don't know, sir. I think he means to injure me, as I have noticed ever since I entered the office that he seems to dislike me.”

β€œHow is that, Thomas? Do you again declare that you saw Herbert pick up the wallet?

β€œI do,” said Tom, boldly. β€œOf course, I expected that he would deny it. I leave it to you, sir, if he does not show his guilt in his face? Just look at him!”

Now it, unfortunately for Herbert, happened that his indignation had brought a flush to his face, and he certainly did look as a guilty person is supposed to do. Mr. Godfrey observed this, and his heart sank within him, for, unable to conceive of such wickedness as Tom's, he saw no other way except to believe in Herbert's guilt.

β€œHave you nothing to say, Herbert?” he asked, more in sorrow than in anger.

β€œNo, sir,” said Herbert, in a low voice; β€œnothing, except what I have already said. Tom has uttered a wicked falsehood, and he knows it.”

β€œOf course, I expected you would say that,” said Tom, with effrontery.

β€œThis is a serious charge, Herbert,” proceeded Mr. Godfrey. β€œI shall have to ask you to produce whatever you have in your pockets.”

β€œCertainly, sir,” said our hero, calmly.

But, as he spoke, it flashed upon him that he had in his pocket twenty-six dollars, and the discovery of this sum would be likely to involve him in suspicion. He could, indeed, explain where he got it; but would his explanation be believed? Under present circumstances, he feared that it would not. So it was with a sinking heart that he drew out the contents of his pockets, and among them his own pocketbook.

β€œIs that yours?” asked Mr. Godfrey, turning to Mr. Walton.

β€œNo, it is not; but he may have transferred my money to it.”

Upon this hint, Mr. Godfrey opened the pocketbook, and drew out the small roll of bills, which he proceeded to count.

β€œTwenty-six dollars,” he said. β€œHow much did you lose?”

β€œBetween twenty and thirty dollars. I cannot be sure how much.”

β€œHere are two tens and three twos.”

β€œI had two tens. I don't remember the denomination of the other bills.”

Even Tom was struck with astonishment at this discovery. He knew that his charge was groundless, yet here it was substantiated in a very remarkable manner. Was it possible that he had, after all, struck upon the truth of the matter? He did not know what to think.

β€œHerbert,” said his employer, sorrowfully, β€œthis discovery gives me more pain than I can express. I had a very high idea of you. I could not have believed you capable of so mean a thing as deliberate dishonesty.”

β€œI am not guilty,” said Herbert, proudly.

β€œHow can you say this in the face of all this evidence? Do you mean to say that this money is yours?”

β€œI do,” said Herbert, firmly.

β€œWhere could you have got it?” said

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