oor swung shut, Bently leaned his
arms on the window ledge and spoke to the clerk, who was an intimate
friend of his.

"Say, Billy," he exclaimed, "let me see that coin that Stoker paid
you just now, will you? Push it out here a minute."

"What's up?" inquired the clerk, as he complied with the request.

"Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to look at the date." As he examined
it, he gave a long whistle. "Whe-ew! It's the same. Curious
coincidence, I must say! This young brother takes up a collection
Sunday night. Avery drops in her five-dollar gold piece that she got
as a prize, you know. Collector turns his back on the meeting to
count the money, hands in a report of only four dollars and
ninety-six cents. Vows he never saw the gold in the box. A thorough
search of the room fails to bring it to light. Nobody can imagine how
it disappeared. The next morning he has a coin of the same date to
dispose of."

"Who is the fellow, anyway?" asked the clerk.

"That's just it! Who is he? Nobody knows. He came here from some
little place back in the country several months ago, and went to work
in the Downs & Company shoe factory."

"If that's the case, why don't you ask your uncle about him? He's
both the company and the manager in the firm, isn't he? He'd know
whether the fellow was to be trusted or not."

"I intend to," was the answer; "and say, Billy, if you don't mind,
I'll take that coin. Here's its equivalent."

He pushed a rustling new bank-note toward his friend. "See me play
Sherlock Holmes now. I always did think I'd make a good detective."

"Look out," was the warning reply. "You have only a slim bit of
circumstantial evidence, and it would be hard on the boy to start
such a tale if there were no truth in it."

With the coin in his pocket, Ralph sauntered down to his uncle's
office. It was some time before the busy man could spare time to
listen to him.

"Well," he said at last, looking up, pen in hand, "what can I do for
you this morning, Ralph?" He had always taken a special interest in
his sister's only son, and now smiled kindly as he approached.

"Oh, nothing, thank you, uncle. I just dropped in to ask you about
one of the employees in the factory. Who is this Alec Stoker, and
where did he come from?"

The manager's brow contracted an instant in thought. The factory was
a large one, and the roll of employees long.

"Stoker! Stoker!" he repeated. Then his face cleared. "Ah! He is the
nephew of the be