re is a box of government bonds usually kept there," the bookkeeper
admitted, reluctantly.

"Ah, that's good!" returned Stark, rubbing his hands. "Do you know how
much they amount to?"

"I think there are about four thousand dollars."

"Good! We must have those bonds, Gibbon."

CHAPTER XXII.

MR. STARK IS RECOGNIZED.

Phil Stark was resolved not to release his hold upon his old
acquaintance. During the day he spent his time in lounging about the
town, but in the evening he invariably fetched up at the bookkeeper's
modest home. His attentions were evidently not welcome to Mr. Gibbon,
who daily grew more and more nervous and irritable, and had the
appearance of a man whom something disquieted.

Leonard watched the growing intimacy with curiosity. He was a sharp boy,
and he felt convinced that there was something between his uncle and the
stranger. There was no chance for him to overhear any conversation, for
he was always sent out of the way when the two were closeted together.
He still met Mr. Stark outside, and played billiards with him
frequently. Once he tried to extract some information from Stark.

"You've known my uncle a good while," he said, in a tone of assumed
indifference.

"Yes, a good many years," answered Stark, as he made a carom.

"Were you in business together?"

"Not exactly, but we may be some time," returned Stark, with a
significant smile.

"Here?"

"Well, that isn't decided."

"Where did you first meet Uncle Julius?"

"The kid's growing curious," said Stark to himself. "Does he think he
can pull wool over the eyes of Phil Stark? If he does, he thinks a good
deal too highly of himself. I will answer his questions to suit myself."

"Why don't you ask your uncle that?"

"I did," said Leonard, "but he snapped me up, and told me to mind my own
business. He is getting terribly cross lately."

"It's his stomach, I presume," said Stark, urbanely. "He is a confirmed
dyspeptic--that's what's the matter with him. Now; I've got the
digestion of an ox. Nothing ever troubles me, and the result is that I
am as calm and good-natured as a May morning."

"Don't you ever get riled, Mr. Stark?" asked Leonard, laughing.

"Well, hardly ever. Sometimes when I am asked fool questions by one who
seems to be prying into what is none of his business, I get wrathy, and
when I'm roused look out!"

He glanced meaningly at Leonard, and the boy understood that the words
conveyed a warning and a me