all was darkness, however, and Jack returned to the
window. As he approached it something on the floor beneath caught his
eye. It was a lead-pencil. He picked it up, and with a cry of triumph
discovered stamped upon it the initials and miniature crest of the
express company. And, more, a peculiar long-pointed sharpening promised
the possibility of fixing its actual owner.

Filled with elation, and confident that it was now only a matter of time
when he should clear himself, Jack hastened up-stairs, determined to
pursue his investigation next door, where he knew several of the younger
clerks.

"Hello, Danny," he said, entering the express office, and addressing a
sandy-haired boy of his own age. "Say, who in here sharpens pencils like
this?"

"Hello! That? Oh, I'd know that whittle a mile off. We call 'em
daggers--Smith's daggers. Where did you get it?"

"Smith! Who wants Smith?"

Jack turned with a start. It was the clerk himself.

Instantly Jack extended the pencil. "Is this yours, Mr. Smith?" he asked,
and held his breath.

"Yes, it is. Where did you find--" Suddenly the clerk turned upon Jack
with a look of terror in his face. But in a moment he had recovered
himself, and abruptly snatching the pencil from Jack's hand, proceeded to
his desk.

Jack was jubilant. Nothing could have been more convincing of the clerk's
guilt. Following this feeling, however, came one of pity for the
unfortunate man; and after a silent debate with himself, Jack followed
him.

Placing a hand on the clerk's shoulder, he said in a low voice:

"Mr. Smith, I have found out about that cash-box of ours. Now look here,
why not confess the wretched business before it is too late, and--"

The clerk spun about. "Cash-box! Business! What do you refer to?"

"Mr. Smith, it was you took our cash-box last night."

The clerk was colorless, but he only faltered an instant. "What nonsense
is this?" he demanded angrily. "I never heard of your cash-box. What do
you mean by--"

"Well then, I'll tell you just how you did it," said Jack determinedly.
"While you were in Mr. Black's office yesterday afternoon he stepped out
and left you alone for a moment. The cash-box was on the table. You
immediately saw the opportunity (perhaps Hansen had done the same thing,
and put you onto it?)--you saw the opportunity, and threw over the box a
newspaper you had in your hand. As you had hoped, not seeing the box, Mr.
Black forgot it, and left at six o'cloc