Mr. Brackett stared at his brother-in-law in ludicrous dismay, while his wife fairly gasped for breath.

Here was a revelation, indeed. Their important secret had been discovered, and neither knew what to say.

Mrs. Brackett was the first to recover her wits.

“Who told you we had any money in the savings bank, George?” she demanded.

“Nobody.”

“He only guessed it. He doesn’t know,” she thought. “I can deceive him yet.”

“I wish we had money in the bank,” she said; “but farming is a poor business. It doesn’t pay, and all that Jeremiah and I have been able to do has been to make both ends meet.”

“Lucinda, I admire your ready invention—or, shall I say, your ready forgetfulness of facts?” said her brother, with a provoking smile; “but you ought not to try it on me. You must remember that I have been around the world a little; I have a slight knowledge of men, and women, too. You have five hundred dollars in the savings bank, and you know it; and, what’s more, I know it.”

“Who told you?” demanded his sister, desperately.

A smile passed over her brother’s features, as he fixed his eyes on his sister’s agitated countenance, and answered, simply:

“I have seen the book.”

“Have you dared to go to my bureau drawer?” exclaimed Mrs. Brackett, angrily.

“There it comes out!” said White, laughing. “No, I have not been to your bureau drawer.”

“Then, how could you see my bank book?”

“Then it seems you have one, Lucinda. So I thought.”

“I have a small account in the bank, I admit,” said Mrs. Brackett. “But it’s only a few dollars.”

“Didn’t I tell you I had seen the book? Why do you try to deceive me?”

“Then you have been to my bureau.”

“It isn’t in your bureau.”

“Then where is it? Have you got it with you?”

“No,” assured White, unblushingly. “But I know where it is.”

“Where is it?” asked his sister, nervously.

“I must tell you the story, and then you will understand how I came to find out about your deposit. That boy of yours, Henry Miller, I distrusted as soon as I saw him. I couldn’t place him, but I was convinced I had seen him somewhere, and that his character was bad.”

“Just what I always thought!” ejaculated Mrs. Brackett, profoundly gratified at hearing something to Andy’s discredit.

“Your instinct was quite correct, my esteemed sister. Well, this afternoon, being left alone in the house, I thought I would search Henry’s room, being influenced chiefly by missing a small amount of money a day or two since.”

“Did you find it in the boy’s room?” asked Lucinda, eagerly.

“No; he was too shrewd to leave money around. The young rascal has a long head, and, I must admit, is unusually smart. I didn’t find any money, but on opening the drawer of his dressing table, tucked away in a corner, I saw a savings-bank book. I thought it was his, but on examining it I discovered your name. Of course I opened it, and that is the way I found how much money you had.”

“But what could the boy want with the book?” asked Brackett.

“He intended to forge an order and draw some of the money as soon as he went to Jefferson.”

“He was to go there to-morrow with father,” ejaculated Mrs. Brackett.

“Just so! He’s in with the old man, and no wonder. Do you know who he is?”

“I don’t know anything beyond his name,” said Brackett.

“You don’t know that!” said White, triumphantly. “His name is not Henry Miller at all.”

“What is it, George?” asked Mrs. Brackett, eagerly.

“Prepare to be astonished. You have been harboring a traitor in your house. His name is Andy Gordon, and his mother is the niece of your father-in-law!”

Mr. and Mrs. Brackett stared at each other in consternation.