ointed.

"We shall have every one about your establishment watched, Mr. Sumner,"
the superintendent had said. "And I would advise you to go on with
business as if nothing had happened."

And to this the elderly broker had agreed.

Hal watched Hardwick narrowly, and the book-keeper showed plainly that
he did not appreciate the attention. Once he put his hand on Hal's arm
and glared at him.

"What are you looking at me for?" he demanded, in a low tone, so that
Mr. Sumner might not hear.

"Was I looking at you?" asked Hal, innocently.

"Yes, you were, and I don't like it."

Hal bowed, and turned away. Nevertheless, he still kept watch on the
sly.

Presently, just before the time that Hardwick usually went out for
lunch, he saw something which he thought rather odd, although of no
great importance.

On a small shelf over one of the desks rested two new inkstands and
several boxes of pens. Going to the desk, Hardwick pretended to be busy
examining some papers. While thus engaged, Hal saw the book-keeper
transfer the inkstands and the boxes of pens to his overcoat pocket.

"Now, what is he up to?" thought the youth.

Having transferred the articles to his clothes, Hardwick put down the
papers and walked to where Mr. Sumner sat, busily engaged over his
correspondence.

"Shall I go to lunch now, Mr. Sumner?" he asked.

The elderly broker glanced at the clock.

"Yes."

Hardwick at once went out, and presently Mr. Allen followed. Mr. Sumner
continued to write for a minute, and then called Hal.

"You may mail these letters, and then get your lunch also," he said.

"Yes, sir," replied the youth.

Then he hesitated as he took up the letters.

"Well, what is it, Hal?" asked the broker.

"Nothing much, Mr. Sumner. I wished to ask you about those inkstands and
the pens that were on the shelf over there."

"What of them? You may use whatever you find necessary."

"It isn't that, sir. I just saw Mr. Hardwick slip the things into his
pocket."

"Indeed!" Mr. Sumner looked surprised. "Did he say what he intended to
do with them?"

"No, sir."

"I will ask him when he comes in."

Hal hesitated.

"I wish you would not, Mr. Sumner," he said.

The elderly broker looked surprised.

"Why not?"

"Because I think Mr. Hardwick is hatching up some plot against me, and I
wish to find out what it is."

"A plot?"

"Yes, sir. He is on friendly terms with Dick Ferris, your former
office-boy, and both of them ha