down, and he recollected that he had not taken it again.

"Some one has taken it!" he decided; and wrath arose in his heart, He
snapped his teeth together in stern anger, as he determined that
he would ferret out the miserable thief, and subject him to condign
punishment.

Mrs. Smith, tired of waiting for the appearance of her husband, ascended
the stairs and entered his presence.

"Well?" she said.

"I haven't found it," answered Socrates, tragically. "Mrs. Smith, the
wallet has been stolen!"

"Are you sure that you left it here?" asked his wife.

"Sure!" he repeated, in a hollow tone. "I am as sure as that the sun
rose to-morrow--I mean yesterday."

"Was the door open?"

"No; but that signifies nothing. It wasn't locked, and anyone could
enter."

"Is it possible that we have a thief in the institute?" said Mrs. Smith,
nervously. "Socrates, I shan't sleep nights. Think of the spoons!"

"They're only plated."

"And my earrings."

"You could live without earrings. Think, rather, of the wallet, with
nearly fifty dollars in bills."

"Who do you think took it, Socrates?"

"I have no idea; but I will find out. Yes, I will find out. Come
downstairs, Mrs. Smith; we will institute inquiries."

When Mr. Smith had descended to the lower floor, and was about entering
the office, it chanced that his nephew was just entering the house.

"What's the matter, Uncle Socrates?" he asked; "you look troubled."

"And a good reason why, James; I have met with a loss."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Jim, in innocent wonder; "what is it?"

"A wallet, with a large amount of money in it!"

"Perhaps there is a hole in your pocket," suggested Jim.

"A hole--large enough for my big wallet to fall through! Don't be such a
fool!"

"Excuse me, uncle," said Jim, meekly; "of course that is impossible.
When do you remember having it last?"

Of course Socrates told the story, now familiar to us, and already
familiar to his nephew, though he did not suspect that.

Jim struck his forehead, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him.

"Could it be?" he said, slowly, as if to himself; "no, I can't believe
it."

"Can't believe what?" demanded Socrates, impatiently; "if you have any
clew, out with it!"

"I hardly like to tell, Uncle Socrates, for it implicates one of the
boys."

"Which?" asked Mr. Smith, eagerly.

"I will tell you, though I don't like to. Half an hour since, I was
coming upstairs, when I heard a door clos