tting on the coping along
the street, "do you want to make a dollar?"

The enthusiasm of the response, not to mention its unanimity,
threatened dire disaster to Macloud's toilet.

"Hold on!" he said. "Don't pull me apart. You all can have a chance for
it. I've lost a wallet--a pocketbook--between the gate yonder and the
hotel. A dollar to the boy who finds it."

With a shout, they set to work. A moment later Croyden came down the
walk.

"I haven't got it," Macloud said, answering his look. "I've been over
to the gate and back, and now I've put these gamins to work. They will
find it, if it's to be found. Did you telephone the office?"

"Nothing doing there!" Croyden answered. "And what's more, there won't
be anything doing here--we shall never find the letter, Macloud."

"That's my fear," Macloud admitted. "Somebody's already found it."

"Somebody's _stolen_ it," Croyden answered.

"What?"

"Precisely!--do you recall our being jostled by two men in the narrow
corridor of the hotel? Well, then is when I lost my wallet. I am sure
of it. I wasn't in a position to drop it from my pocket."

Macloud's hand sought his own breast pocket and stopped.

"I forgot to change, when I dressed. Maybe the other fellow made off
with mine. I'll go and investigate--you keep an eye on the boys."

Presently he returned.

"You're right!" he said. "Mine is missing, too. We'll call off the
boys."

He flung them some small coins, thereby precipitating a scramble and a
fight, and they went slowly in.

"There is just one chance," he continued. "Pickpockets usually abstract
the money, instantly, and throw the book and papers away. They want no
tell-tale evidence. It may be the case here--they, likely, didn't
examine the letter, just saw it _was_ a letter and went no further."

"That won't help us much," said Croyden. "It will be found--it's only a
question of the pickpockets or some one else."

"But the some one else may be honest. Your card is in the wallet?"

"With Hampton on it."

"The finder may advertise--may look you up at the hotel--may----"

"May bring it back on a gold salver!" Croyden interjected. "No! No!
Colin. Our only hope is that the thief threw away the letter, and that
no one finds it until after we have the treasure. The man isn't born
who, under the circumstances, will renounce the opportunity for a half
million dollars."

"Well, at the worst, we have an even chance! Thank Heaven! We know the
directions