that?" fiercely demanded Ben.

"Celia has lost some money out of her drawer, and you wont let me see
what's in yours; so I thought, perhaps, you'd got it!" blurted out
Thorny, finding it hard to say the words, angry as he was, for the face
opposite did not look like a guilty one.

For a minute, Ben did not seem to understand him, plainly as he spoke;
then he turned an angry scarlet, and, with a reproachful glance at his
mistress, opened the little drawer so that both could see all that it
contained.

"They aint anything; but I'm fond of 'em--they are all I've got--I was
afraid he'd laugh at me that time, so I wouldn't let him look--it was
father's birthday, and I felt bad about him and Sanch--"

Ben's indignant voice got more and more indistinct as he stumbled on,
and broke down over the last words. He did not cry, however, but threw
back his little treasures as if half their sacredness was gone; and,
making a strong effort at self-control, faced around, asking of Miss
Celia, with a grieved look:

"Did _you_ think I'd steal anything of yours?"

"I tried not to, Ben, but what could I do? It was gone, and you the
only stranger about the place."

"Wasn't there _any one_ to think bad of but me?" he said, so sorrowfully
that Miss Celia made up her mind on the spot that he was as innocent of
the theft as the kitten now biting her buttons, no other refreshment
being offered.

"Nobody, for I know my girls well. Yet, eleven dollars are gone, and I
cannot imagine where or how; for both drawer and door are always
locked, because my papers and valuables are in that room."

"What a lot! But how could _I_ get it if it was locked up?" and Ben
looked as if that question was unanswerable.

"Folks that can climb in at windows for a ball, can go the same way for
money, and get it easy enough when they've only to pry open an old
lock!"

Thorny's look and tone seemed to make plain to Ben all that they had
been suspecting, and, being innocent, he was too perplexed and unhappy
to defend himself. His eye went from one to the other, and, seeing
doubt in both faces, his boyish heart sunk within him; for he could
prove nothing, and his first impulse was to go away at once.

"I can't say anything, only that I _didn't_ take the money. You wont
believe it, so I'd better go back where I come from. _They_ weren't so
kind, but _they_ trusted me, and knew I wouldn't steal a cent. You may
keep my money, and the kitty, too; I don't want 'e