"I wish I knew whether that money I saw Mr. Kirby counting belonged to my poor uncle," thought Dean.

He didn't venture to take his boy friend into his confidence, for his suspicions, strong as they were, might prove to do his employer injustice. At any rate he resolved to keep on the lookout for additional evidence which might tend either to confirm or to disprove them.

If he had been present in the broker's office, he would have heard something to confirm the distrust he felt. When Peter Kirby was asked by the broker's clerk, as usual, his name, he hesitated for a second, then answered boldly "Renwick Bates." So in the broker's book the sale of bonds was recorded as having been made to Renwick Bates. Had the squire known this, he would have felt very angry with his confederate, as, in case the fifty-dollar notes were traced, his name would be involved.

Guy and Dean were taking supper at a restaurant not far from the hotel when Mr. Kirby came in and sat down at a table near them. Guy was the first to notice him.

"There's your respected employer, Dean," he said in a low voice.

"So he is. I wonder whether I ought to speak to him."

"Wait till you get through supper."

Presently another man came in and took a seat at the same table. He seemed to have been expected.

"You're late, Pringle," said Kirby.

"Yes, I was detained. I went to Jersey City to see my wife."

"You are better provided than I. I have never found time to get married."

"Well, it's awkward sometimes in our business to have such an incumbrance."

"Does your wife know what business you are in?"

"Scarcely. She's a good church woman, and would be horrified. She thinks I am a traveling salesman."

Kirby laughed.

"I have no wife to deceive," he said. "That is where I have the advantage of you. However, you are no worse off than the captain. I've been up to see him."

"Where?"

"In the country," answered Kirby evasively. "He's a big gun out there. They call him squire."

Both laughed.

"So he is married?"

"Yes, and has a son who is his very image, even to the long, tusk-like teeth. If ever he gets into trouble it's because they will give him away."

"They certainly are very peculiar."

"They are dangerous," responded Kirby with emphasis. "If I had them I would get rid of them in short order, but the captain owned to me that he was afraid of the dentist."

"I suppose his family are in the dark as to his position?"

"Undoubtedly. His son is an impudent young cub. It would have given me pleasure to box his ears. He evidently thinks his father a man of great importance, and is inflated by his own estimate of his social consequence."

"What makes the captain stay in such an obscure place?"

"He tells me it is on account of his family, and also because it adds to his safety."

"When are we to see him?"

"He will be in Chicago next month, and lay out work for us to do. One thing I will say for him, he has good executive talent, but he ought not to keep out of the way so much of the time."

Then the talk drifted into other channels.

To this conversation Dean listened with the utmost attention. He felt interested and excited. He could not fail to understand that Kirby was referring to Squire Bates. The mystery was deepening. Who and what was this man who in Oakford posed as a lawyer, a reputable citizen, and a Justice of the Peace? It was clear that he was allied to some outside organization in which he wished to conceal his membership.

This man Kirby who was now Dean's employer, was a friend and associate. Why under the circumstances should Squire Bates have been willing to send him off as Kirby's clerk or secretary? If there was anything to conceal, it was only giving him an opportunity to find it out.

"I must keep my eyes open," thought Dean. "I mean to find out who robbed my uncle, and whether Squire Bates had anything to do with it. If I could only recover the money I should be happy."

"What are you thinking about so intently?" asked Guy.

"I want to get out of the restaurant without my employer seeing me," answered Dean in a low voice.

"Why? Would he object to your coming here!"

"Wait till we get into the street."

The boys managed to effect their retreat without attracting the notice of Kirby or Pringle.

"Now what's it all about?" asked Guy.

"They were talking confidentially, and Mr. Kirby would be angry if he thought I had heard them."

"Oh, that's it," said Guy carelessly. He was not a boy of much curiosity, and felt much less interest in Dean's concerns than his own. "Well, what shall we do this evening?"

"Go to bed, I suppose."

"But why not go to some theater?"

"I should like to go," said Dean, "but I don't know that I ought to use the money Mr. Kirby gave me for such a purpose."

"You needn't mind that. Didn't you tell me you were to receive twenty-five dollars a month?"

"Yes."

"Then if he makes any fuss, tell him to charge the expense of the theatre to your salary."

"I might do that. How much will it cost to go to the theater?"

"We can get a fair seat for fifty cents."

"Then I think I'll go," said Dean after some hesitation.

"Have you any choice as to theatres?"

"No, I don't know anything about them. I never went to a theatre in my life."

"Well, you are a fresh young countryman, and no mistake. Here, I'll get an evening paper, and see what's playing at the different theaters."

The result was that Niblo's was selected. It is not necessary to mention the name of the play, which was at that time a popular favorite, but is now forgotten. The two boys obtained seats in the balcony, rather far off from the stage, but both were possessed of good eyes, and had no difficulty in seeing what was passing on the boards.

Dean was enchanted. He had had but vague ideas of what a theater was like, and to him everything seemed real. There was one place where the villain of the piece throws the heroine from a bridge into the water. Dean uttered a little exclamation.

Guy turned to him with a smile.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I—I almost thought it was real," said Dean. "I was afraid she would drown."

"And I dare say you wanted to punish the brutal ruffian?"

"Yes, I did," admitted Dean.

"Probably he and the girl are excellent friends in real life. Why, they are husband and wife," he added, referring to the play bill.

"It doesn't seem possible."

"I envy you, Dean. You enjoy the play much better than I do, for you believe in it while I know it for a sham—that is, I know it's merely play-acting. Look in the next row—you see there is some one who believes in it as much as you do."

Guy pointed to a lady in plain, old-fashioned attire who was wiping her eyes.

"She takes it worse than you do," whispered Guy.

The play continued, and ended at last to the satisfaction of Dean, who saw all the bad characters visited with retribution, while oppressed innocence and virtue through much tribulation attained happiness and peace.

When the play was over, they joined the throng and passed out through the lobby. Suddenly a cry was heard from a little distance in front.

"I've been robbed! I've lost my pocket-book," and a small man with a red and excited face began to feel wildly in his pockets for his lost treasure.

At a little distance pushing their way out, were two tall men, whom Dean recognized as Peter Kirby and his friend Pringle. While others in the immediate neighborhood of the victim were regarding him with looks of curiosity or sympathy these two seemed to feel no interest, and to be only intent on getting out into the street.