d at
last, thinking you might be easier on me than you would be on the boy."

"My poor friend," said Mr. Whittier, sympathetically, holding out his
hand, which the Major clasped gratefully for a moment.

"Now that we know who was selling us to the Tuxedo people, we can
protect ourselves hereafter," declared Mr. Wheatcroft. "And in spite of
your trying to humbug me into believing you guilty, Major, I'm willing
to let your son off easy."

"I think I can get him a place where he will be out of temptation,
because he will be kept hard at work always," said Paul.

The old book-keeper looked up as though about to thank the young man,
but there seemed to be a lump in his throat which prevented him from
speaking.

Suddenly Mr. Wheatcroft began, explosively, "That's all very well! but
what I still don't understand is how Paul got those photographs!"

Mr. Whittier looked at his son and smiled. "That is a little
mysterious, Paul," he said, "and I confess I'd like to know how you did
it."

"Were you concealed here yourself?" asked Mr. Wheatcroft.

"No," Paul answered. "If you will look round this room you will see
that there isn't a dark corner in which anybody could tuck himself."

"Then where was the photographer hidden?" Mr. Wheatcroft inquired, with
increasing curiosity.

"In the clock," responded Paul.

"In the clock?" echoed Mr. Wheatcroft, greatly amazed. "Why, there
isn't room in the case of that clock for a thin midget, let alone a
man!"

Paul enjoyed puzzling his father's partner. "I didn't say I had a man
there or a midget either," he explained. "I said that the photographer
was in the clock--and I might have said that the clock itself was the
photographer."

Mr. Wheatcroft threw up his hands in disgust. "Well," he cried, "if you
want to go on mystifying us in this absurd way, go on as long as you
like! But your father and I are entitled to some consideration, I
think."

"I'm not mystifying you at all; the clock took the pictures
automatically. I'll show you how," Paul returned, getting up from his
chair and going to the corner of the office.

Taking a key from his pocket he opened the case of the clock and
revealed a small photographic apparatus inside, with the tube of the
objective opposite the round glass panel in the door of the case. At
the bottom of the case was a small electrical battery, and on a small
shelf over this was an electro-magnet.

"I begin to see how you did it," Mr. Whittier rem