d no surprise.

"What is your name?" inquired the attendant.

"Ben Barclay," answered Conrad readily.

The ticket was made out, the money paid over, and Conrad left the
establishment.

"Now I am in funds!" he said to himself, "and there is no danger of
detection. If anything is ever found out, it will be Ben who will be
in trouble, not I."

It was not long before Mrs. Hamilton discovered her loss. She valued
the missing opera glass, for reasons which need not be mentioned, far
beyond its intrinsic value, and though she could readily have supplied
its place, so far as money was concerned, she would not have been as
well pleased with any new glass, though precisely similar, as with the
one she had used for years. She remembered that she had not replaced
the glass in the drawer, and, therefore, searched for it wherever she
thought it likely to have been left. But in vain.

"Ben," she said, "have you seen my glass anywhere about?"

"I think," answered Ben, "that I saw it on your desk."

"It is not there now, but it must be somewhere in the house."

She next asked Mrs. Hill. The housekeeper was entirely ignorant of
Conrad's theft, and answered that she had not seen it.

"I ought not to have left it about," said Mrs. Hamilton. "It may have
proved too strong a temptation to some one of the servants."

"Or someone else," suggested Mrs. Hill significantly.

"That means Ben," thought Mrs. Hamilton, but she did not say so.

"I would ferret out the matter if I were you," continued Mrs. Hill.

"I intend to," answered Mrs. Hamilton quietly. "I valued the glass
far beyond its cost, and I will leave no means untried to recover it."

"You are quite right, too."

When Conrad was told that the opera glass had been lost, he said:

"Probably Ben stole it."

"So I think," assented his mother. "But it will be found out. Cousin
Hamilton has put the matter into the hands of a detective."

For the moment, Conrad felt disturbed. But he quickly recovered
himself.

"Pshaw! they can't trace it to me," he thought. "They will put it on
Ben."

CHAPTER XXVI
MR. LYNX, THE DETECTIVE

The detective who presented himself to Mrs. Hamilton was a
quiet-looking man, clad in a brown suit. Except that his eyes were
keen and searching, his appearance was disappointing. Conrad met him
as he was going out of the house, and said to himself contemptuously:
"He looks like a muff."

"I have sent for you, Mr. Lynx," sai