worked over the top of the
drawer. I felt quite a crack, but I don't believe it is possible for
things to slip out; the place was never full enough to overflow in any
way."

Miss Celia spoke to Ben, who was kneeling down to pick up the scattered
papers, among which were two marked dollar bills,--Thorny's bait for
the thief. Ben looked into the dusty recess, and then put in his hand,
saying carelessly:

"There's nothing but a bit of red stuff."

"My old pen-wiper--Why, what's the matter?" asked Miss Celia, as Ben
dropped the handful of what looked like rubbish.

"Something warm and wiggly inside of it," answered Ben, stooping to
examine the contents of the little scarlet bundle. "Baby mice! Aint
they funny? Look just like mites of young pigs. We'll have to kill 'em
if you've caught their mammy," he said, forgetting his own trials in
boyish curiosity about his "find."

Miss Celia stooped also, and gently poked the red cradle with her
finger; for the tiny mice were nestling deeper into the fluff with
small squeaks of alarm. Suddenly she cried out: "Boys, boys, I've found
the thief! Look here, pull out these bits and see if they wont make up
my lost bills."

Down went the motherless babies as four ruthless hands pulled apart
their cosey nest, and there, among the nibbled fragments, appeared
enough finely printed, greenish paper, to piece out parts of two bank
bills. A large cypher and part of a figure one were visible, and that
accounted for the ten; but though there were other bits, no figures
could be found, and they were willing to take the other bill on trust.

"Now, then, _am_ I a thief and a liar?" demanded Ben, pointing proudly
to the tell-tale letters spread forth on the table, over which all three
had been eagerly bending.

"No; I beg your pardon, and I'm very sorry that we didn't look more
carefully before we spoke, then we all should have been spared this
pain."

"All right, old fellow, forgive and forget. I'll never think hard of
you again,--on my honor I wont."

As they spoke, Miss Celia and her brother held out their hands frankly
and heartily. Ben shook both, but with a difference; for he pressed the
soft one gratefully, remembering that its owner had always been good to
him; but the brown paw he gripped with a vengeful squeeze that made
Thorny pull it away in a hurry, exclaiming, good-naturedly, in spite of
both physical and mental discomfort:

"Come, Ben, don't you bear malice; for you've got