aluable, also, but they weren't.-----"

"You were robbed---when?" asked Dick.

"When I was sleeping."

"At some farm house?" Reade inquired.

"No; I slept on a pile of old rags that I had taken in trade."

"In the wagon?-----" from Prescott.

"Yes."

"But why did you sleep in the wagon? And where did you have the
wagon?" Dick pressed.

"The wagon was off the road, two miles below here," the peddler
explained brokenly. "It would cost me fifty cents for a bed at
a farm house, so, when the night is fine, I sleep outdoors on
the wagon and save the money. It's cheaper with the horse, too,
as I have to pay only for his feed."

"But the money?" Tom pressed the old man. Reuben Hinman groaned,
but did not take to sobbing again.

"I woke up to-night, and found it gone," he answered.

"Did you feel or hear anyone prowling about, or searching your
clothing?"

"No; if I had discovered anyone robbing me," shivered the peddler,
"I would have caught and held on to him. I have strong hands.
I have strong hands. Do you see?"

Holding up his wiry, claw-like hands, the old peddler worked the
fingers convulsively.

"Then how do you know you were robbed, Mr. Hinman?" Dick insisted.

"Because the money is gone," replied the old man simply.

"You searched the rags, and the surrounding parts of your wagon?"
Reade asked.

"Young man, you may be sure that I did."

"And where were you going when we stopped you?"

"For help."

"Whose help?" Dick inquired.

"I don't know," replied the old man blankly. "Perhaps to a lawyer."

"Lawyers don't recover stolen property," rejoined Reade.

"Perhaps not," assented the peddler. "The people whom you should
see are the local officers," Dick assured the old man. "Probably
they couldn't recover your money, though, since you have no idea
who robbed you."

Reuben Hinman groaned helplessly. It was plain to the two high
school boys that the peddler had started out, thus, in the middle
of the night simply because his misery was too great to permit
of inaction on his part.

"I wish we could help you," Prescott went on earnestly.

"Why can't you?" eagerly demanded the peddler, as one who clutches
at the frailest straw.

"Call Dave, Tom. Try not to wake the others," murmured Dick.
Then, while Reade was gone, Prescott asked:

"Mr. Hinman, why on earth didn't you keep your money in a bank,
and then pay by check?"

"No, no, no! No banks for me!" cried the old man tremulou