you took from your pocket, took out a morocco pocketbook, opened it
and counted the roll of bills which it contained, then put the
pocketbook into your pocket, locked the drawer and left the room."

"That's a fine story," said Harold, forcing himself to speak. "I dare
say all this happened, only you were the one who opened the drawer."

"I saw it all through a crack in the half-open door," continued
Felicie, not taking the trouble to answer his accusation. "If you want
further proof, suppose you feel in your pocket. I presume the
pocketbook is there at this moment."

Instinctively Harold put his hand into his pocket, then suddenly
withdrew it, as if his fingers were burned, for the pocketbook was
there as Felicie had said.

"There is one thing more," said Felicie, as she drew from her pocket a
bunch of keys. "I found this bunch of keys in your room this
morning."

"They are not mine," answered Harold, hastily.

"I don't know anything about that. They are the ones you had in your
hand when you opened the drawer. I think this is the key you used."

"The keys belong to you!" asserted Harold, desperately.

"Thank you for giving them to me, but I shall have no use for them,"
said Felicie, coolly. "And now, Master Harold, do you want to know why
I have told you this little story?"

"Yes," answered Harold, feebly.

"Because I think it will be for our mutual advantage to come to an
understanding. I don't want to inform your aunt of what I have seen
unless you compel me to do so."

"How should I compel you to do so?" stammered Harold, uneasily.

"Step into the parlor, where we can talk comfortably. Your aunt is
upstairs, and your mother is out, so that no one will hear us."

Harold felt that he was in the power of the cunning Felicie, and he
followed her unresistingly.

"Sit down on the sofa, and we will talk at our ease. I will keep
silent about this matter, and no one else knows a word about it,
if----"

"Well?"

"If you will give me half the money."

"But," said Harold, who now gave up the pretense of denial, "I have
spent part of it."

"You have more than half of it left?"

"Yes."

"Give me thirty dollars and I will be content. I saw you count it.
There were sixty-five dollars."

"I don't see what claim you have to it," said Harold, angrily.

"I have as much as you," answered Felicie, coolly. "Still, if you
prefer to go to your aunt, own up that you took it, and take the
consequences, I will a