er since the robbery--that piece, or any other?"

"Not--not to my knowledge, Mr. Haley," the storekeeper said, shaking
his head slowly.

"Oh, Nelson!" gasped Janice, coming nearer and touching his arm lightly.

The young man's hands were clenched. He had a temper and it nearly
mastered him now. But he had learned to control himself. Otherwise he
could never have been as successful as he was in handling his pupils.
His eyes darted lightning at the druggist; but the latter was too
excited to realize Nelson Haley's mood.

"This fellow has been to the postmaster to try to discover if I bought
my money-order the other day with gold coin; but the postmaster obeyed
the rules of the Department and refused to answer. He and the other
committeemen are doing every underhanded thing possible to injure me.
Cross Moore even tried to get into my rooms to search my trunk--but
Mrs. Beaseley threatened him with a broom.

"It doesn't surprise me that Mr. Massey should attempt in this way to
find what he calls 'a clue.' The only clue he and his friends are
looking for is something with which to connect me with the robbery."

Janice's light touch on his arm again, stayed his wrathful words; but
the druggist's freckled face glowed--red under the young man's gaze.

"Wal!" he grunted, shortly, "we're bound to look after our own
skins--not after yours, Mr. Haley."

"I believe you!" exclaimed the schoolmaster in scorn, and turned away.

"But, say, Hopewell, ye ain't answered me yet," went on Massey, again
addressing the storekeeper.

"Well--I couldn't say offhand----"

"Great goodness, Hopewell!" cried Massey, pounding his fist upon the
counter for emphasis, "you're the most exasperating critter. If
this--this---- If Mr. Haley didn't give you the coin, _who did_?"

"Why--I--I----"

Drugg was slow enough at best. Now he was indeed very irritating. He
was not the man to allow anything he said to injure another, if he
could help it.

"Le's see," he continued; "I've had that gold piece sev'ral days. I am
sure, of course, that Mr. Haley did not give it to me. No. Come to
think of it----"

"Well?" gasped Mr. Massey.

"I _do_ remember the transaction, now. It--it was give me as an option
on my violin," said Hopewell Drugg, with growing confidence. "Yes. I
remember now all about it."

"What's that? Yer fiddle, Hopewell?" put in Dexter. "Ye ain't goin'
ter sell yer fiddle?"

"I must," Hopewell said simply. "I acce