"

"You have traced them, then?"

"I've been three weeks doing it, but I have so."

"And with what conclusion?"

"Just this, that Captain E. Oliphant fell over that cliff just about
the right time, sir. Yes, sir, my notes are lying snug at the English
Bank at this present moment, and I know their pedigree. Number 90,356
came there from a bank in Fleet Street. The bank in Fleet Street
received it from a hotel. The hotel received it from a gentleman who
slept in bedroom Number 36, and that gentleman's name was Ratman.
Number 90,357 came to the bank later from Amsterdam. Amsterdam had it
from an English diamond merchant, the diamond merchant had it from a
stock jobber, and the stock jobber had it from a sporting club, who had
it from a temporary member in December last in payment of a gambling
debt, and that temporary member's name was Ratman. That's not all, sir.
My letter was posted in America, November 9. On November 17 the post-
master at Yeld, an intelligent man, sir, received a letter with an
American stamp, sir, addressed to Roger Ingleton, senior, at Maxfield.
A Yankee stamp was a novelty to your intelligent post-master, and he
took a note of date, and sent it up here for delivery. It was delivered
here November 17, and your footman remembers giving it to your
colleague. Three days after, Mr Ratman visited his friend Captain E.
Oliphant here. Two days later he reached the hotel in London with a
Yeld label on his trunk. A week after that he passed note Number 90,356
to settle his bill. There, sir; the Americans are born explorers. I
flatter myself there's not much more to know about my two notes."

"Quite so," said the tutor. "You have done a great deal in three weeks.
What reparation can be made you?"

"Sir, you are an honest young man. You believe in shielding the memory
of a dead enemy. You are right. Continue on that tack and you'll do
yourself credit. As executor of my late kinsman, I will trouble you to
place this cheque for L200 to the credit of the estate, and never to say
a word about the sum that was lost. Notes get lost every day; at least
they do in America."

Mr Armstrong's gratitude was beyond words. He had set his heart, for
the sake of the children of his late colleague, and even for Roger's
sake, on covering with a cloak of oblivion the crime of which chance had
made him the detector. This American had it in his power to aid or
thwart him, and had chosen the former cour