During the rest of the day Alan preserved a surly distance of manner,
speaking to Mortimer only once--a constrained request for a bunch of
keys in the latter's possession which unlocked some private drawers in
the vault.

The next morning it suddenly occurred to Mortimer that Porter's note
fell due that day--either that day or the next, he wasn't sure. The
easiest way to settle the question was to look at the date on the note.

He stepped into the vault, took out the little cigar box, opened it, and
as he handled the crisp papers a sudden shock of horror ran through
his frame. One of the bills was gone; there were only two
one-thousand-dollar notes left.

The discovery paralyzed him for an instant. He was responsible; the
money had been left in his charge. Then he looked at the note; it
matured the next day. All the money had been in the box the morning
before, for he had looked at it. Only the cashier and Alan Porter knew
that it was in the vault.

The whole dreadful truth came clearly to Mortimer's mind with absolute
conviction. Alan, infatuated with the prospect of winning a large sum
over The Dutchman, and failing to borrow from him, had taken the money.

The gravity of the situation calmed Mortimer, and his mind worked with
a cool method that surprised him. Bit by bit he pieced it out. The boy,
inconsistently enough, had reasoned that the money was his father's, and
that he was only borrowing family property. No doubt he had felt sure
of winning, and that he would be back in time to replace the thousand
before it was needed. This sophistical reasoning had, without doubt,
tempted the lad to commit this--this--Mortimer felt a reluctance to
bestow the proper name upon Alan's act, but undoubtedly it was stealing.

And if the boy lost the money, what would happen? He couldn't repay it;
the shortage would be discovered and Allis's brother would be ruined,
branded as a 'thief.

Mortimer would willingly put the money back himself for Allis's sake;
but he hadn't it. What was he to do? If he could find Alan and force him
to give up the stolen money he could yet save the boy. But Alan had gone
to Gravesend.

Like an inspiration the thought came to Mortimer that he must go after
him and get the money before it was lost. He shoved the box back in its
place, and came out into the office.

It was half past ten by the clock. Luckily the cashier had not come yet.
Mortimer's mind worked rapidly. He must make some excuse a