oney had been counted, gave it a tip that
would have dislodged any coin left on its smooth plush seat, and
peered anxiously round on the floor.

"Don't give it another thought, Mr. Stoker, please don't!" exclaimed
Avery, going up to him when her attention was called to his worried
expression. "I'm sure it has rolled off into some corner and the
janitor will find it when he sweeps. I'll speak to him about it.
Anyhow, it is too small a matter to make such a fuss over. I never
should have told Ralph what it was if he hadn't teased me about what
I had tied up in the corner of my handkerchief." Then she passed on
with a smile.

Alec lingered to help collect the hymn-books, and when he passed into
the vestibule he heard voices on the outer steps. One of them sounded
like Ralph Bently's.

"Oh, maybe so!" it exclaimed, with a disagreeable little laugh; "but
it's queer how money will stick to some people's fingers."

Alec, who was in the act of opening the door to go from the
prayer-meeting room into the auditorium of the church for the evening
service, paused an instant. He was overwhelmed by the sudden
conviction that he was the person meant.

CHAPTER V.

The next day at noon, after a hurried lunch at the restaurant, Alec
stopped at the post-office on his way back to the factory. He wanted
to add a few lines to the birthday letter which he had written
Philippa the night before. He wrote them standing at the public desk;
then, drawing the old wallet from his pocket, he took out the
long-cherished gold coin from its wrapping of tissue-paper and
dropped it into the envelope.

"I'm afraid it isn't safe to send it that way," he said to himself,
balancing the letter on two fingers. "It is so heavy that any one
could guess what's in it, and it might wear through. I did want her
to have it in gold, but I suppose it will be more sensible to send a
postal order."

After a moment's deliberation, he turned to the window beside the
desk, and asked for a money-order blank. Some one came in while he
was filling it out, but he was so absorbed in his occupation that he
did not look up until he turned to push the slip and the money
through the window bars toward the clerk. Then he saw that it was
Ralph Bently who stood behind him, flipping a postal order in his
fingers, impatient to have it cashed. They exchanged careless nods,
and Alec, sealing his letter, dropped it into the box and hurried
back to his work. As the outer d