which I keep a pocketbook was unlocked, and this, with
its contents, was stolen."

"Don't you suspect anyone?"

"I did, but he has cleared himself, in my opinion. It is possible it
was one of the servants."

At this moment Luke pulled his handkerchief from his side pocket and
with it came the morocco pocketbook, which fell on the carpet.

Mrs. Merton uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"Why, that is the very pocketbook!" she said.

Luke stooped and picked it up, with an expression of bewilderment on
his face.

"I don't understand it," he said. "I never saw that pocketbook before
in my life."

"Please hand it to me."

Luke did so.

"Yes, that is the identical pocketbook," said the old lady.

"And it came from my pocket?"

Yes."

"Is there any money in it, Mrs. Merton."

Mrs. Merton opened it, and shook her head. That has been taken out,"
she answered.

"I hope you won't think I took the money," said Luke, with a troubled
look.

"I know you did not. It was taken while we were out together
yesterday. The last thing before I left the house I locked the drawer,
and the pocketbook with the money inside was there. When I returned it
was gone."

"That is very mysterious. I don't understand how the pocketbook came
in my pocket."

"Someone must have put it there who wished you to be suspected of the
theft."

"Yes," said Luke, eagerly. "I see."

Then he stopped suddenly, for what he was about to say would throw
suspicion upon Harold.

"Well, go on!"

"I don't know that I ought to speak. It might throw suspicion on an
innocent person."

"Speak! It is due to me. I will judge on that point. Who has had the
chance of putting the wallet into your pocket?"

"I will speak if you insist upon it, Mrs. Merton," said Luke,
reluctantly. "A few minutes since I met Harold on the street. We were
bound in opposite directions. He surprised me by stopping me, and
addressing me quite cordially. We stood talking together two or three
minutes."

"Did he have an opportunity of putting the wallet in your pocket?"

"He might have done so, but I was not conscious of it."

"Let me think!" said the old lady, slowly. "Harold knew where I kept
my money, for I opened the drawer in his presence the other day, and
he saw me take a bill from the pocketbook. I did not think him capable
of robbing me."

"Perhaps he did not," said Luke. "It may be explained in some other
way."

"Can you think of any other way?" asked the