cashier were in league,"
said Virgie.

"I know it; and at first the affair did have that appearance--at least,
such a construction was but natural under the circumstances."

"But papa gave up every dollar he possessed to right the wrong."

"I know he did, but the amount was so small, compared with that which had
been stolen, that people were skeptical regarding his motives, and when he
also disappeared, they were only too ready to believe that he had gone to
share the plunder with the guilty cashier. But I would as soon suspect
myself of a crime as Abbot Alexander. I <i>know</i> that he was an honorable
man."

"Oh, it is such a comfort to hear you say this," Virgie murmured, her
voice husky with emotion, her eyes filled with tears. "Poor papa! his last
years were embittered with the thought that every one believed him a
defaulter--that he had not one friend in all the world, save his daughter,
who had faith in him."

"He made a great mistake in leaving San Francisco as he did," Mr. Knight
remarked. "If he had remained here and quietly lived down the scandal, he
might in time have recovered the confidence of the people."

"Oh! if the stain could be removed from his name and memory!" sighed
Virgie.

"I do not like to pain you, my dear," replied Mr. Knight, sympathetically;
"but that would be very difficult to accomplish, unless that cashier
should come forward and make a full confession."

Virgie looked up, startled, her face growing very white.

"I saw him here in the city last year," she said.

"Impossible!" exclaimed her friend.

"I am very sure I was not mistaken," Virgie affirmed and then she told the
publisher the circumstances of her being followed by that muffled figure
and of the advertisement which appeared in the papers a day or two
following, desiring communication with her.

"I am afraid that <i>you</i> have made a mistake this time," said Mr. Knight,
thoughtfully. "You ought to have communicated with the man."

"But I had such a horror of him; I could not believe that he would be able
to tell me of anything to my advantage."

"At least he could have done you no harm, and he might have told you
something worth knowing. Promise me, if anything of the same nature occurs
again, you will let me know. If he could be arrested he might be forced to
a confession of the truth."

Virgie was greatly disturbed by this view of the matter, and regretted
that she had not had more wisdom at the time. She re