time he
had lost his poise, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that
he prevented any further manifestation of the fact during the meal and
the evening which followed. For unless he was very much mistaken--and
he felt sure that he was not--that envelope he had picked up and handed
to the President was the identical blue linen envelope that had been
stolen with the tan satchel so mysteriously two weeks ago! The size of
it, the feel of it, the daubs of gray sealing-wax--Oh, there was no
mistaking it!

How in thunderation had it come into Cranston's hands?--Cranston, of
all men! Had Cranston pulled off the stunt? Had Podmore been doing
him an injustice? He studied the chief of the Special Service
Department with a new and wide-awake interest. If Cranston had
purloined this packet it was under orders--Wade's, of course. Then
that suspicion which had kept recurring every time he had tried to
think out the mystery of the disappearance was correct. It was a
political move! The opponents of the Government were lining up for the
approaching election with open charges of mal-feasance, graft,--the
same old game! Wade, he knew, had had friction with the present
administration over certain legislation; that was sufficient motive for
him taking a hand, although it was hardly likely that a man of Wade's
standing would allow himself to become involved in such back-alley
tactics--unless--Nickleby--the Interprovincial----!

Podmore's thoughts were not running as clearly as usual. They kept
pocketing themselves provokingly in blind alleys that led nowhere, or
scattering in mazes that led everywhere. There was such a wide field
of speculation open, once he began to consider things from the
political angle, that it was difficult to reach any very definite
conclusion. He was not now so concerned as to the why or the how of
what had happened; the cold analysis of motives and methods was dwarfed
by the one big fact that here on board the private car and within easy
reach was that blessed envelope, containing fifty thousand dollars of
any man's money. For it did not look as if it had been tampered with;
the seals were still unbroken. Right here, within a few yards of where
he sat, was that little old bunch of greenbacks that he had planned so
earnestly to take unto his bosom and that had cost him so many
heartburnings this past two weeks. Talk about luck! Talk about
Opportunity knocking once on somebody's door! Why,