ch,
and walked back and forth very nervously. In a few moments he went out.
I took the mysterious invoices from the file, enclosed them in an
envelope, and delivered Mr. Collingsby's message to the head salesman.
It was very evident that an explosion could not be long deferred. Mr.
Faxon would be able to inform the senior partner that the lumber
mentioned in the fictitious invoices had never been received in the
yard. The Michigan Pine Company had an agency in the city, and it would
be a very easy matter to verify the principal bill, if it were a
genuine one.

Mr. Whippleton soon returned. He looked more cheerful and satisfied
than when he went out; but as he came near me, I smelt his breath, and
found that his new inspiration was whiskey. He immediately sent me to
settle with a building firm who had made large purchases, though he
usually attended to this portion of the business himself. I was absent
about an hour. When I returned, the junior partner was not in the
counting-room.

"Where is Mr. Whippleton?" I asked.

"He went out about five minutes ago," replied the entry clerk.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No; he drew a check, and left with that and a lot of other papers in
his hand."

I took the check book from the safe, and found that he had drawn the
entire balance, save a few dollars. I was alarmed. The crisis seemed to
come sooner than I expected.

"What papers did he take?" I asked.

"I don't know what they were. He took a file from the safe, and looked
it over for some time."

"Which file?"

"I don't know."

I went to the safe, and found that the notes receivable had been
considerably deranged, for I had put them away with the nicest care. I
satisfied myself that quite a number of them had been taken from the
file. Mr. Whippleton was evidently raising a large sum of money. I
placed the note book upon the table, and told the entry clerk to check
off the notes as I read them. When we had finished this comparison,
those not checked were the notes the junior had taken. They represented
about thirty-two thousand dollars. At this moment he was, doubtless,
raising the money on these notes.

What should I do? Mr. Whippleton was a villain! I concluded that he
found it impossible to conceal his frauds much longer, and he was
getting together all the money he could, in order to flee to some safer
locality. He had persecuted his mother with a pertinacity which
indicated a resolute purpose to do som