been revolving the problem of a business of his own.

"I'll look in here," thought the manager, pulling out the money
drawers. He did not know why he wished to look in there. It was quite a
superfluous action, which another time might not have happened at all.

As he did so, a layer of bills, in parcels of a thousand, such as banks
issue, caught his eye. He could not tell how much they represented, but
paused to view them. Then he pulled out the second of the cash drawers.
In that were the receipts of the day.

"I didn't know Fitzgerald and Moy ever left any money this way," his
mind said to itself. "They must have forgotten it."

He looked at the other drawer and paused again.

"Count them," said a voice in his ear.

He put his hand into the first of the boxes and lifted the stack,
letting the separate parcels fall. They were bills of fifty and one
hundred dollars done in packages of a thousand. He thought he counted
ten such.

"Why don't I shut the safe?" his mind said to itself, lingering. "What
makes me pause here?"

For answer there came the strangest words:

"Did you ever have ten thousand dollars in ready money?"

Lo, the manager remembered that he had never had so much. All his
property had been slowly accumulated, and now his wife owned that. He
was worth more than forty thousand, all told--but she would get that.

He puzzled as he thought of these things, then pushed in the drawers
and closed the door, pausing with his hand upon the knob, which might so
easily lock it all beyond temptation. Still he paused. Finally he went
to the windows and pulled down the curtains. Then he tried the door,
which he had previously locked. What was this thing, making him
suspicious? Why did he wish to move about so quietly. He came back to
the end of the counter as if to rest his arm and think. Then he went and
unlocked his little office door and turned on the light. He also opened
his desk, sitting down before it, only to think strange thoughts.

"The safe is open," said a voice. "There is just the least little crack
in it. The lock has not been sprung."

The manager floundered among a jumble of thoughts. Now all the
entanglement of the day came back. Also the thought that here was a
solution. That money would do it. If he had that and Carrie. He rose up
and stood stock-still, looking at the floor.

"What about it?" his mind asked, and for answer he put his hand slowly
up and scratched his head.

The manager