Ben went home slowly, in a state of great perplexity. He knew his mother too well to think she would pay him three hundred dollars without weighty cause. Should he tell her the scrape he had got into? He felt a natural reluctance to do that, nor was he by any means satisfied that she would pay the money if he did. Then again he was ashamed to admit that he was afraid to fight. He felt convinced that, should he reveal the matter, his mother would bid him take advantage of the legal worthlessness of his notes to Winchester. He would gladly do it, but was afraid, and did not dare to admit it. On the whole, Ben felt decidedly uncomfortable.

"Is mother at home?" he inquired, when he reached home.

"No; she's gone over to Mrs. Talbot's to spend the afternoon," was the reply.

Ben felt relieved by this assurance, though he hardly knew why.

"I wonder whether mother has got as much as three hundred dollars by her," he thought.

With this thought in his mind he went upstairs, and entered his mother's chamber.

The first thing he caught sight of when he entered was a little bunch of keys lying on the table. He knew at once that they were his mother's keys. It was certainly extraordinary that she should on that particular day have left them exposed. She was generally very careful. But it chanced that she had hurried away, and in her haste had forgotten the keys, nor did she think of them while absent.

Under ordinary circumstances Ben would have made no improper use of the keys thus thrown in his way; but, harassed as he was by the importunities of Winchester, it seemed to him a stroke of luck that placed them in his power.

He determined to open the drawers of his mother's bureau, and see what he could find. If only he could find the sum he wanted he could get out of his present difficulties, and perhaps explain it to his mother afterwards.

Ben, after several trials, succeeded in finding the key that fitted the upper drawer. He examined the contents eagerly. It was of course filled with a variety of articles of apparel, but in one corner Ben found a portemonnaie. He opened it, and discovered a roll of bills, six in number, each of the denomination of twenty dollars.

"One hundred and twenty dollars!" he said. "That's more than a third of the bill. Perhaps, if I pay that, Winchester'll wait for the rest."

It occurred to him, however, that a further search might reveal some more money. If he could get thirty dollars more, for example, that with the other would make one half the sum he owed Winchester, and with that surely the other might be content, for the present at least. The rest of the debt he could arrange to pay out of his weekly allowance, say at the rate of five dollars a week.

Accordingly Ben began to poke about until he found a folded paper. He opened it with curiosity and began to read. His interest deepened, and his excitement increased.

"By Jove," he said, "if this isn't the lost will I've heard so much talk about. The old lady's kept it mighty quiet. Wouldn't John Oakley give something to get hold of it?"

Ben sat down to reflect upon the discovery he had made.

"Mother's right to keep it quiet," he said to himself. "She ought to have destroyed it, and I verily believe she has tried," he continued, as he noticed the scorched appearance of the will. "I wonder she didn't."

The next question to consider was, what to do with it. It did not take long to decide. His mother would be very much frightened, and this would give him a hold upon her, by which he might induce her to give him the money he required.

"Yes, I'll keep it," he said.

He put the roll of bills into his pocket-book, carefully deposited the will in his side-pocket, and, shutting and locking the bureau-drawer, placed the keys in the same position upon the table in which he had found them, and then left the room.

"A pretty good day's work!" thought Ben to himself. "I think I'll go and pay Winchester what money I have, and get him to wait a few days for the rest."

Ben left the house, and wended his way to the tavern. He found Winchester in the bar-room, smoking a cigar. He looked up inquiringly as Ben entered.

"How are you, Winchester?" said Ben.

"All right," said the latter, noticing Ben's changed demeanor, and auguring favorably from it. "Have a cigar?"

"I don't care if I do," said Ben.

Winchester handed him one, and the two sat down together.

"Oh, about that money," said Ben, after a little pause. "I can let you have a part of it now, but I shall have to make you wait a few days for the rest."

"How much can you pay me now?"

"One hundred and twenty dollars," said Ben.

"That's good," said Winchester, with satisfaction. "The fact is, I'm deuced hard up, and need it."

"I don't want to pay you here," said Ben. "Come out a little way, and I'll hand it to you."

"All right. I'd like a walk."

The two sauntered forth together, and Ben paid over the money.

"You'll oblige me by not mentioning to anybody that I have paid you any money," said Ben. "I have a reason for it."

"Of course."

"I can't tell you the reason."

"That's your affair."

"Now about the rest."

"Yes, about the rest."

"I think I can get it for you in a few days."

"I can wait a few days to oblige you, but I must go to the city as soon as I can get away. So please hurry up."

"I'll do the best I can. This morning," he added, "I didn't see how I was going to get the money. My mother wouldn't look upon it as we do, as a debt of honor; but since then I've been lucky enough to get possession of one of her secrets, and I think it will help me."

"Glad of it," said Winchester, "for your sake. I don't care, of course, how you get the money, as long as you do get it. That's the main thing, you know."

"Yes, I see."

"Now what do you say to another little game of billiards?"

"I can't stake any more money. I've lost enough," said Ben, sensibly.

"Then let it be a friendly game—just a little trial of skill, that's all."

To this Ben was not averse, and the two made their way as so often before to the billiard saloon.

In the mean time Mrs. Oakley returned home from her afternoon visit. She had not yet missed her keys, but on going up to her chamber, discovered them lying upon the table.

"How terribly careless I have been!" she said. "I hope they have not been seen."

Tolerably sure of this, she opened the upper bureau-drawer, and looked for the portemonnaie. It was in the same place. She opened it, and found it empty. Her eyes flashed with indignation.

"Some one has been to the drawer," she said.

She next thought of the will, and felt for it. It was not there! She turned pale, and with nervous fingers took everything out of the drawer, hoping to find it misplaced. But her search was vain. The will was not to be found.

She sank back into a chair, and exclaimed with passionate regret:—

"Fool that I was! Why did I not make all sure by burning it?"