cks and
shares.

At the end of this talk Matt made inquiries concerning Mr. Gaston's
whereabouts. He learned that the former clerk was in Bridgeport,
Connecticut, and telegraphed that he wished to see him without delay.
On the following Friday morning Mr. Gaston presented himself at the
hotel at which Matt was stopping.

The young auctioneer went over his entire story and produced the
papers which had been in his father's possession. He promised Gaston a
liberal reward should they succeed in forcing Randolph Fenton to make
proper restitution for a transaction that was undoubtedly criminal
upon its face.

The old book-keeper at once consented to do what he could. He called
in a lawyer of thorough experience, and several affidavits were made
out, and a search made for Mr. Lincoln's rightful shares, for the
ones Randolph Fenton had assigned to him had been some of a similar
name but of far less value. Then all hands marched down to the
broker's office.

Randolph Fenton was somewhat surprised to see Matt, and he turned
slightly pale when Gaston confronted him, accompanied by the lawyer
and another man he knew was a private detective.

Without preliminaries, the lawyer explained the object of the visit.
As he proceeded the broker grew paler and paler, and he clutched the
arms of his chair nervously.

"You--you are mistaken!" he finally gasped out. "That transaction was
perfectly legitimate. This is a plot on the part of that man and that
boy to ruin my reputation!"

"It is no plot, Mr. Fenton," put in Matt. "For my poor father's sake
as well as my own, I ask for justice; that is all. Your actions
unbalanced my father's mind, and if I wanted to be hard-hearted I
would not rest until you were behind the prison bars."

"Stuff and nonsense! This is all a put-up job----"

"Don't get excited, Mr. Fenton," said the lawyer pointedly. "The boy
is letting you down very easily, to my way of thinking."

"Tut-tut! I won't listen to a word! I want you all to leave this
office and stop this farce!"

"If we have to leave without satisfaction you will go with Mr.
Briarly, the detective," cried Matt. "Now you can take your choice. I
am no longer your office boy, and you cannot twist me around your
finger."

These words filled Randolph Fenton with rage. He wanted to abuse
everybody within hearing, but both the lawyer and the detective cut
him short by threatening him with immediate arrest. Finally he asked
for time in which t