as the world.
Wait until the boss hears of it."

"My father is never unjust," Christopher put in stoutly.

"Your father? I beg your pardon, Mr. Christopher. I'd forgotten you were
here, sir. No, your father always does the square thing," Hollings
hastened to declare. "But he'll not understand. He'll think I should
have been more careful! And so I had--I won't deny it. But my wife and
children--my God!"

"Come, come, Hollings," interrupted a newcomer, whom the group greeted
as Mr. Rhinehart. "There's no good crying over spilled milk. We may get
the ring back again, you know."

"Oh, do you think so?"

"There is a good chance of it. I have telephoned and headquarters has
its nets set already. The pawnshops are watched and so are the roads out
of the city. The police, too, have their orders. Any minute we expect
the inspector to talk with you and this young gentleman here."

"With me?" Christopher exclaimed with a start.

"Surely! You're the hero of this adventure, son."

"Not much of a hero, I'm afraid."

"Well, you're the one who escaped being the hero, then," laughed Mr.
Rhinehart. "At least, you know more of the affair than does anybody
else."

"But I'd be scared to death of the inspector," faltered the boy.

"Pooh! He's only a man, sonny, like any other. You've nothing to fear
from him, since you are on the right side of the fence. If you were on
the wrong side, then indeed you might tremble."

"The inspector has arrived," a messenger from upstairs announced. "He is
in Mr. Burton's office with the members of the firm. He wishes to see
the house detective, the salesman, and young Burton."

"I guess I'm in for it," Hollings whispered to Mr. Rhinehart.

"Nonsense! Tell the truth--that's all you've got to do."

"But I was such a duffer!"

"I fumbled the ball, too, Mr. Hollings," interrupted Christopher
consolingly. "Remember I didn't play a very brilliant game."

"The game wasn't up to you, sonny," Hollings returned. "It was I. I did
the foozling."

Up they shot in the elevator.

The messenger in his uniform and buttons went ahead and opened the
door.

"Mr. Hollings is here, sir," announced he. "And Mr. Christopher and the
detective, Mr. Waldron."

As the three crossed the threshold and entered the office, Christopher
saw Mr. Norcross and the inspector. A deep hush was upon the room. Not
only did its occupants look grave--they looked severe--awesome. One
glance and the lad did not wonder poor H