umber of clerks, I believe?" he suddenly asked the hardware
man.

"Yes, I have--four of them."

"Would you object to taking me through your warehouse, as if to show it
to me, and allow me to look at your clerks?"

"Certainly not. Come along."

On entering, they found one tying up a parcel, one writing busily, one
reading a book, and one balancing a ruler on his nose. The latter, on
being thus caught in the act, gave a short laugh, returned the ruler to
its place, and quietly went on with his work. The reader of the book
started, endeavoured to conceal the volume, in which effort he was
unsuccessful, and became very red in the face as he resumed his pen.

The employer took no notice, and Mr Twitter looked very hard at the
hardware in the distant end of the warehouse, just over the desk at
which the clerks sat. He made a few undertoned remarks to the master,
and then, crossing over to the desk, said:--

"Mr Dobbs, may I have the pleasure of a few minutes' conversation with
you outside?"

"C-certainly, sir," replied Dobbs, rising with a redder face than ever,
and putting on his hat.

"Will you be so good as to tell me, Mr Dobbs," said Twitter, in a quiet
but very decided way when outside, "where my son Samuel Twitter spent
last night?"

Twitter looked steadily in the clerk's eyes as he put this question. He
was making a bold stroke for success as an amateur detective, and, as is
frequently the result of bold strokes, he succeeded.

"Eh! your--your--son S-Samuel," stammered Dobbs, looking at Twitter's
breast-pin, and then at the ground, while varying expressions of guilty
shame and defiance flitted across his face.

He had a heavy, somewhat sulky face, with indecision of character
stamped on it. Mr Twitter saw that and took advantage of the latter
quality.

"My poor boy," he said, "don't attempt to deceive me. You are guilty,
and you know it. Stay, don't speak yet. I have no wish to injure you.
On the contrary, I pray God to bless and save you; but what I want with
you at this moment is to learn where my dear boy is. If you tell me, no
further notice shall be taken of this matter, I assure you."

"Does--does--he know anything about this?" asked Dobbs, glancing in the
direction of the warehouse of the hardware man.

"No, nothing of your having led Sammy astray, if that's what you mean,--
at least, not from me, and you may depend on it he shall hear nothing,
if you only confide in me. Of course he