stant above the top of the wall.

His heart beat with excitement when he saw two figures approaching.
Though it was so dark, he recognized them by their size and outlines.
They were Julius Gibbon, the bookkeeper, and Phil Stark, the stranger
staying at the hotel.

Carl watched closely, raising his head for a few seconds at a time above
the wall, ready to lower it should either glance in his direction. But
neither of the men did so. Ignorant that they were suspected, it was the
farthest possible from their thoughts that anyone would be on the watch.

Presently they came so near that Carl could hear their voices.

"I wish it was over," murmured Gibbon, nervously.

"Don't worry," said his companion. "There is no occasion for haste.
Everybody in Milford is in bed and asleep, and we have several hours at
our disposal."

"You must remember that my reputation is at stake. This night's work may
undo me."

"My friend, you can afford to take the chances. Haven't I agreed to give
you half the bonds?"

"I shall be suspected, and shall be obliged to stand my ground, while
you will disappear from the scene."

"Two thousand dollars will pay you for some inconvenience. I don't see
why you should be suspected. You will be supposed to be fast asleep
on your virtuous couch, while some bad burglar is robbing your worthy
employer. Of course you will be thunderstruck when in the morning the
appalling discovery is made. I'll tell you what will be a good dodge for
you."

"Well?"

"Offer a reward of a hundred dollars from your own purse for the
discovery of the villain who has robbed the safe and abstracted the
bonds."

Phil Stark burst out into a loud guffaw as he uttered these words.

"Hush!" said Gibbon, timidly. "I thought I heard some one moving."

"What a timid fool you are!" muttered Stark, contemptuously. "If I had
no more pluck, I'd hire myself out to herd cows."

"It's a better business," said Gibbon, bitterly.

"Well, well, each to his taste! If you lose your place as bookkeeper,
you might offer your services to some farmer. As for me, the danger,
though there isn't much, is just enough to make it exciting."

"I don't care for any such excitement," said Gibbon, dispiritedly. "Why
couldn't you have kept away and let me earn an honest living?"

"Because I must live as well as you, my dear friend. When this little
affair is over, you will thank me for helping you to a good thing."

Of course all this conversation