ough," said Trove, when he sat facing the official. "I
took the money there, believing it to be mine. If, however, it is
yours, I wish to turn it over to you."

"It is not our money," said the President. "That bundle was sent
here, and we investigated every bill--a great task, for there were
some three hundred of them. Many are old bills and two the issue
of banks gone out of business. It's all a very curious problem.
They would not have received this money, but they knew of the
robbery and suspected you at once. Now we believe absolutely in
your honour."

"I shall put that beyond all question," said Trove, rising.

He took the cars to Hillsborough. There he went to the Sign of the
Dial and built a fire in its old stove. The clocks were now
hushed. He found those Darrel had written of and delivered them.
Returning, he began to wind the cherished clocks of the tinker--old
ones he had gathered here and there in his wandering--and to start
their pendulums. One of them--a tall clock in the corner with a
calendar-dial--had this legend on the inner side of its door:--

"Halted in memory of a good man,
Its hands pointing to the moment of his death,
Its voice hushed in his honour."

Trove shut the door of the old clock and hurried to the public
attorney's office, where he got the address of Leblanc. He met
many who shook his hand warmly and gave him a pleasant word. He
was in great fear of meeting Polly, and thought of what he should
do and say if he came face to face with her. Among others he met
the school principal.

"Coming back to work?" the latter inquired.

"No, sir; I've got to earn money."

"We need another teacher, and I'll recommend you."

"I'm much obliged, but I couldn't come before the fall term," said
Trove.

"I'll try to keep the place for you," said his friend, as they
parted.

Trove came slowly down the street, thinking how happy he could be
now, if Darrel were free and Polly had only trusted him. Near the
Sign of the Dial he met Thurston Tilly.

"Back again?" Trove inquired.

"Back again. Boss gi'n up farmin'."

"Did he make his fortune?"

"No, he had one give to him."

"Come and tell me about it."

Tilly followed Trove up the old stairway into the little shop.

"Beg yer pardon," said Thurst, turning, as they sat down, "are you
armed?"

"No," said Trove, smiling.

"A man shot me once when I wan't doin' nothin' but tryin' t' tell a
story, an' I don't take no c