to Philadelphia. He expected to return
shortly, he had told Stiles, and might decide to locate here
permanently. He was in the hardware business, somewhere near
Philadelphia.

"All right, Jimmy, that will do. Now, better wait outside till your
friend arrives. It all seems straight enough so far as you're
concerned," and Podmore closed the door on him with a smile of
encouragement; for young Stiles looked as if he needed encouragement.
"You've scared the wits out of him, J. C. That won't get us anywhere,"
he reproved when the three were alone.

"I don't trust anybody----"

"Wait," commanded Podmore with upraised hand. He stepped over to the
table quickly and closely scrutinized the tan satchel. Finally he drew
attention to the triangular mark which he had scratched on one end with
his pocket-knife. "It's the satchel O.K. Now, who opened it?"

"Ferguson. I gave him the key, as you suggested, and he opened it in
front of me. And so help me, that stuff there was all that was in it.
The money was gone. I tell you I never felt so much like a fool----"
Nickleby broke off with an oath, still smarting under the jibes which
the caustic Mr. Ferguson had levelled at him, and beneath which the
President of the Interprovincial had writhed in humiliation. "Somebody
took that money out on the way over, Podmore."

"N--ot necessarily, J. C.," said Podmore judicially. "Wait, now.
Think, man. Were you there when Stiles----?"

"Of course I was."

"----when Stiles handed the satchel to Ferguson? Did you see him do
it?"

"Why,--no, not exactly. I was out in the general office when the kid
took it in to Ferguson. What are you driving at?"

"Talking to anybody out there?"

"Yes. I ran into McAllister, of the _Recorder_, and I was so surprised
at seeing the editor of that yellow sheet there--well, he got quizzing
me about one or two matters."

"How long after Stiles left you before you joined Ferguson?"

"Oh--five minutes, maybe. Why, what's all that got to do with it?" He
regarded the look of triumph upon Podmore's face with some astonishment.

"It's as clear as daylight to me, J. C. In that five minutes almost
anything might have happened. Many of the world's great events have
happened in less than that. Hasn't it occurred to you that the package
of money might be removed from the satchel and the paper substituted in
Ferguson's office? The lock might have been sprung, you know."

Nickleby stared, his