l. The nephew of your
bookkeeper I think his name is Leonard Craig."

"Ah, I see," said Mr. Jennings, looking very much relieved. "And you say
he deposited both letters?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you happen to remember if any other letter like this was received at
the office?"

Here he displayed the envelope of Carl's letter.

"Yes; one was received, addressed to the name of the one who deposited
the first letters--Leonard Craig."

"Thank you, Mr. Sweetland. Your information has cleared up a mystery. Be
kind enough not to mention the matter."

"I will bear your request in mind."

Mr. Jennings bought a supply of stamps, and then left the office.

"Well, Carl," he said, when he re-entered the house, "I have discovered
who wrote in your name to Pitkins & Gamp."

"Who, sir?" asked Carl, with curiosity.

"Leonard Craig."

"But what could induce him to do it?" said Carl, perplexed.

"He thought that I would see the letter, and would be prejudiced against
you if I discovered that you were investing in what is a species of
lottery."

"Would you, sir?"

"I should have thought you unwise, and I should have been reminded of
a fellow workman who became so infatuated with lotteries that he stole
money from his employer to enable him to continue his purchases of
tickets. But for this unhappy passion he would have remained honest."

"Leonard must dislike me," said Carl, thoughtfully.

"He is jealous of you; I warned you he or some one else might become so.
But the most curious circumstance is, he wrote a second letter in his
own name. I suspect he has bought a ticket. I advise you to say nothing
about the matter unless questioned."

"I won't, sir."

The next day Carl met Leonard in the street.

"By the way," said Leonard, "you got a letter yesterday?"

"Yes."

"I brought it to the factory with the rest of the mail."

"Thank you."

Leonard looked at him curiously.

"He seems to be close-mouthed," Leonard said to himself. "He has sent
for a ticket, I'll bet a hat, and don't want me to find out. I wish I
could draw the capital prize--I would not mind old Jennings finding out
then."

"Do you ever hear from your--friends?" he asked a minute later.

"Not often."

"I thought that letter might be from your home."

"No; it was a letter from Syracuse."

"I remember now, it was postmarked Syracuse. Have you friends there?"

"None that I am aware of."

"Yet you receive letters from there?"

"That was a busin