nxious tone in which this last question was uttered, the studied
way in which the janitor kept his eyes upon the floor could not have
been unnoticed by Mr. Sylvester, but he simply said,

"I have lost mine, that may very possibly be it."

The janitor held it towards him; his eyes did not leave the floor. "The
responsibility of my position here is sometimes felt by me to be very
heavy," muttered the man in a low, unmodulated tone. It was his duty in
those days previous to the Manhattan Bank robbery, to open the vault in
the morning, procure the books that were needed, and lay them about on
the various desks in readiness for the clerks upon their arrival. He had
also the charge of the boxes of the various customers of the bank who
chose to entrust their valuables to its safe keeping; which boxes were
kept, together with the books, in that portion of the vault to which he
had access. "I should regret my comfortable situation here, but if it
was necessary, I would go without a murmur, trusting that God would take
care of my poor little lamb."

"Hopgood, what do you mean?" asked Mr. Sylvester somewhat sternly. "Who
talks about dismissing you?"

"No one," responded the other, turning aside to attend to some trivial
matter. "But if ever you think a younger or a fresher man would be
preferable in my place, do not hesitate to make the change your own
necessities or that of the Bank may seem to require."

Mr. Sylvester's eye which was fixed upon the janitor's face, slowly
darkened.

"There is something underlying all this," said he, "what is it?"

At once and as if he had taken his resolution, the janitor turned. "I
beg your pardon," said he, "I ought to have told you in the first place.
When I opened the vaults as usual on the morning of which I speak, I
found the boxes displaced; that was nothing if you had been to them,
sir; but what did alarm me and make me feel as if I had held my position
too long was to find that one of them was unlocked."

Mr. Sylvester fell back a step.

"It was Mr. Stuyvesant's box, sir, and I remember distinctly seeing him
lock it the previous afternoon before putting it back on the shelf."

The arms which Mr. Sylvester had crossed upon his breast tightened
spasmodically. "And it has been in that condition ever since?" asked he.

The janitor shook his head. "No," said he, taking his little girl up in
his arms, possibly to hide his countenance. "As you did not come down
again on that day, I