“I guess they're—a part of them—inside this letter,” he said.

As he spoke he produced a letter, stamped and sealed, but not postmarked. The letter was addressed:

“Messrs. Jones & Fitch,

“—-Chestnut Street,

“Philadelphia.”

“What makes you think this letter contains money or postage stamps, Mr. Graham?” asked George Melville.

“Because I've seen an advertisement of Jones & Fitch in one of the weekly papers. They advertise to send several articles to any address on receipt of seventy-five cents in postage stamps.”

“Very well. What inference do you draw from this?”

“Don't you see?” answered Eben, in malicious triumph. “That's where part of the stamps went. This letter was put into the post office by Herbert Carr this morning.”

“That is not true,” said Herbert, quietly.

“Maybe it isn't, but I guess you'll find Herbert Carr's name signed to the letter,” said Eben.

“Have you seen the inside of the letter, Mr. Graham?”

“No, sir.”

“Then how do you know Herbert Carr's name is signed to it?”

“I don't know, but I am pretty sure it is.”

“You think Herbert Carr wrote the letter?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If there is no objection,” said Melville, “I will settle the matter by opening it.”

“That's what I want you to do.” said Eben Graham.

“And I also,” said Herbert.

Mr. Melville deliberately cut open one end of the envelope with a small penknife, and drew out the folded sheet which it contained. As he did so, a small sheet of postage stamps fell upon the floor.

“There, do you see that?” said Eben in triumph.

The sheet of stamps contained twenty-five three-cent stamps, representing in value seventy-five cents.

“Shall I read the letter, sir?” asked Melville, of the judge.

“If there is no objection.”

Melville read it aloud, as follows:

“WAYNEBORO, August 2lst. MESSRS. JONES & FITCH: I inclose seventy-five cents in stamps, and will be glad to have you send me the articles you advertise in the Weekly Gazette. Yours truly,

“HERBERT CARR.”

Herbert listened to the reading of this letter in amazement.

“I never wrote that letter,” he said, “and I never heard of Jones & Fitch before.”

“That's a likely story!” sneered Eben Graham. “I submit to Judge Slocum that I have proved my case. I haven't found out when all the stamps left, but I have shown where some are. One who will steal seventy-five cents' worth of stamps will steal six dollars' worth.”

“I agree with you there, Mr. Graham,” said George Melville. “Will you be kind enough to sit down at that table, and write to my dictation?”

“What should I do that for?” asked Eben, suspiciously.

“Never mind. Surely you can have no objection.”

“Well, no; I don't know as I have, though I think it's all foolishness.”

He sat down, and a pen was handed him.

“What shall I write?” he asked.

“Write 'Messrs. Jones & Fitch.'”

“What for?” demanded Eben, looking discomposed.

“That's my affair. Write.”

Eben wrote the words, but he seemed to find some difficulty in doing so. It was clear that he was trying to disguise his handwriting.

“What next?” he asked.

“'I inclose seventy-five cents in stamps,'” proceeded George Melville.

“Do you want to throw suspicion on me?” asked Eben, throwing down the pen.

“Keep on writing!” said the judge.

Eben did so, but was very deliberate about it, and seemed very particular as to how he penned his letter.

“Very well!” said Melville. “Now, I wish Herbert Carr to take the pen, and I will dictate the same letter.”

Herbert readily took the seat just vacated by Eben, and rapidly wrote the words dictated to him.

When he had finished his task, Mr. Melville took the two copies, and, first examining them himself, handed them, together with the original letter, to Justice Slocum.

“I have only to ask your honor,” he said, “to compare these three notes and decide for yourself whether the original was written by Herbert Carr or Mr. Eben Graham, the witness against him.”

Eben Graham looked very ill at ease, flushing and paling by turns while the examination was going on.

“I submit,” he said, “that this is a very extraordinary way of treating a witness.”

Justice Slocum, after a pause, said: “I find that Mr. Eben Graham's copy is unmistakably in the same handwriting as the original letter, purporting to be written by Herbert Carr.”

“It's not so!” faltered Eben.

“Then,” said George Melville, triumphantly, “as it seems clear that my young client is the victim of a base conspiracy, engineered by the man who has brought this charge of dishonesty against him, I have only to ask that he be honorably discharged.”

“The request is granted,” said Justice Slocum. “Herbert, you can go. It is clear that you are innocent of the charge made against you.”

“I protest,” began Eben Graham.

“As for you, Mr. Graham,” said the justice, severely, “I have no words to express my scorn and detestation of your conduct in deliberately contriving a plot to ruin the reputation of an innocent boy, who has never done you any harm. Should Herbert Carr desire it, he is at liberty to sue you for having him arrested on a false charge trumped up by yourself.”

Eben began to look frightened.

“I do not wish to punish Mr. Graham,” said Herbert. “It is enough for me that my honesty has been vindicated.”

“Go, then,” said the justice to Eben. “It is fortunate for you that this boy is so forbearing.”

Eben Graham slunk out of the justice's office, looking meaner and more contemptible than ever, while Herbert was surrounded by his friends, who congratulated him upon the happy issue of the trial.