ibbon, whom he suspected of having deceived him by
opening and appropriating the bonds, and then arranged to have him carry
off the box filled with waste paper.

He sat at the table but five minutes, for he had little or no appetite.

From the breakfast room he went out on the piazza, and with corrugated
brows smoked a cigar, but it failed to have the usual soothing effect.

If he had known the truth he would have left Milford without delay, but
he was far from suspecting that the deception practiced upon him had
been arranged by the man whom he wanted to rob. While there seemed
little inducement for him to stay in Milford, he was determined to seek
the bookkeeper, and ascertain whether, as he suspected, his confederate
had in his possession the bonds which he had been scheming for. If so,
he would compel him by threats to disgorge the larger portion, and then
leave town at once.

But the problem was, how to see him. He felt that it would be
venturesome to go round to the factory, as by this time the loss might
have been discovered. If only the box had been left, the discovery might
be deferred. Then a bright idea occurred to him. He must get the box out
of his own possession, as its discovery would compromise him. Why could
he not arrange to leave it somewhere on the premises of his confederate?

He resolved upon the instant to carry out the idea. He went up to his
room, wrapped the tin box in a paper, and walked round to the house of
the bookkeeper. The coast seemed to be clear, as he supposed it would
be. He slipped into the yard, and swiftly entered an outhouse. There was
a large wooden chest, or box, which had once been used to store grain.
Stark lifted the cover, dropped the box inside, and then, with a feeling
of relief, walked out of the yard. But he had been observed. Mrs. Gibbon
chanced to be looking out of a side window and saw him. She recognized
him as the stranger who had been in the habit of spending recent
evenings with her husband.

"What can he want here at this time?" she asked herself.

She deliberated whether she should go to the door and speak to Stark,
but decided not to do so.

"He will call at the door if he has anything to say," she reflected.

Phil Stark walked on till he reached the factory. He felt that he
must see Julius Gibbon, and satisfy himself as to the meaning of the
mysterious substitution of waste paper for bonds.

When he reached a point where he could see into the office