warn't much whisky left in the jug. He must have absorbed most
of it."

Now Mr. Tripp's indignation was turned against this new individual.

"Where is my money, you villain?" he demanded, hotly.

"Whaz-zer matter?" hiccoughed Ramsay.

"You came into my store last night and stole some money."

"Is zis zer store? It was jolly fun," and the inebriate laughed.

"Yes, it is. Where is the money you took?"

"Spent it for whisky."

"No, you didn't. You found the whisky here."

Ramsay made no reply.

"He must have the money about him," suggested the minister. "You'd
better search his pockets, Mr. Perkins."

The constable thrust his hand into the pocket of his helpless charge,
and drew out a roll of bills.

Silas Tripp uttered an exclamation of joy.

"Give it to me," he said. "It's my money."

The bills were counted and all were there.

Not one was missing. Part of the silver could not be found. It had
probably slipped from his pocket, for he had no opportunity of spending
any.

Mr. Tripp was so pleased to recover his bills that he neglected to
complain of the silver coins that were missing. But still he felt
incensed against the thief.

"You'll suffer for this," he said, sternly, eying the tramp over his
glasses.

"Who says I will?"

"I say so. You'll have to go to jail."

"I'm a 'spectable man," hiccoughed the tramp. "I'm an honest man. I
ain't done nothin'."

"Why did you take my handkerchief last night?" asked Chester.

The tramp laughed.

"Good joke, wasn't it? So they'd think it was you."

"It came near being a bad joke for me. Do you think I robbed your store
now, Mr. Tripp?"

To this question Silas Tripp did not find it convenient to make an
answer. He was one of those men--very numerous they are, too--who
dislike to own themselves mistaken.

"It seems to me, Mr. Tripp," said the minister, "that you owe an
apology to our young friend here for your false suspicions."

"Anybody'd suspect him when they found his handkerchief," growled
Silas.

"But now you know he was not concerned in the robbery you should make
reparation."

"I don't know where he got his money," said Silas. "There's suthin'
very mysterious about that five-dollar bill."

"I've got another, Mr. Tripp," said Chester, smiling.

"Like as not. Where'd you get it?"

"I don't feel obliged to tell."

"It looks bad, that's all I've got to say," said the storekeeper.

"I think, Mr. Tripp, you need not borrow any trouble