The next question that suggested itself to Rupert was, "What object could Mrs. Marlow have in sending off his mother on a wild goose chase?" The answer occurred immediately. "The purse."

He hurried home, and fairly ran up stairs.

"Mother," he cried, entering out of breath, "where did you put the purse I gave you?"

"In the bureau drawer."

"Will you look and see if it is there now?"

Wondering at his earnestness, Mrs. Rollins opened the bureau drawer.

"It is gone!" she said, with a startled look.

"I think I know where it has gone," said Rupert, his suspicions now become certainties.

"Where?"

"Mrs. Marlow can probably tell you."

"Do you mean that she has taken it, Rupert?" said his mother.

"I have found out that Mrs. Marlow sent the messenger giving you the false report of my accident. You can guess her motive."

"It hardly seems credible."

"I think there can be no doubt of it."

"What shall we do?"

"I will try to get some further evidence. You remember that Grace woke up and saw her in the room."

"You did not see her go near the bureau, Grace?" asked Mrs. Rollins.

"No, she was just leaving the room when I woke up."

"Wait here a minute, mother."

Rupert darted down stairs and made his way to the grocery store which he judged Mrs. Marlow would be likely to visit.

"What can I do for you, Rupert?" asked the grocer, pleasantly.

"Has Mrs. Marlow been here to-day?"

"Yes," laughed the grocer. "The old lady seems to be in funds. What do you think, Rupert? She changed a ten-dollar gold piece here."

"I thought so," said Rupert. "That gold piece was stolen from my mother."

"You don't tell me so!" ejaculated the grocer, opening wide his eyes in astonishment.

"It's a fact. How did she account for having so much money?"

"She said it was given her by a cousin of her late husband—a very rich man."

"That was a fiction of Mrs. Marlow's."

"It's too bad, Rupert. What do you want me to do? I can't give you the gold piece, for I gave Mrs. Marlow the change, about nine dollars. I can't afford to lose so much."

"You can help me to get back that money. When I call upon you, you can testify that she paid it to you."

"So I will, Rupert. I didn't think the woman was such a mean thief."

Five minutes later Rupert knocked at Mrs. Marlow's door.

The widow opened it herself, and when she saw her visitor she suspected his errand, but she was resolved to deny all knowledge of the money.

"How do you do, Rupert?" she said. "I thought you had met with an accident?"

"Did you? How came you to think so?" asked Rupert, looking her full in the face.

"The boy told me—the telegraph boy."

"Did he? That is strange. The note he brought my mother was sealed."

"Then he must have opened it. You can't trust them boys."

"How are you getting along, Mrs. Marlow? I see you have been buying some groceries," for the packages were on the table.

"Yes. I got a few things that I needed," said the widow, uneasily. "Then you didn't have your leg broken, after all?"

"If I did, it's well again. By the way, Mrs. Marlow, when my mother was out a purse was taken from the room."

"You don't tell me!" said Mrs. Marlow, flushing. "Them thieves is so bold. I must look and see if I haven't had something taken."

"I believe you came into the room while mother was gone."

"So I did," answered Mrs. Marlow, with engaging frankness. "I went in to see if your dear sister wanted anything done."

"You found her asleep?"

"She waked up just as I entered the room. She was only having a cat nap. I told her why your mother had gone out, she seemed so alarmed like."

"And then you went to the table drawer and took out the purse."

"It was in the bureau drawer——"

Here Mrs. Marlow stopped short, feeling that she had betrayed herself.

"You are right. You have good reason to know. You went to the bureau drawer and took out the purse."

"It's a lie, whoever says it," exclaimed the widow. "You're in good business, Rupert Rollins, to be comin' round accusin' a poor woman of stealin'—me that's as honest as the babe unborn."

"It may be so, Mrs. Marlow, but where did you get the gold piece you paid to Mr. Graves?"

"Sure, where did he hear that?" thought the widow, quite taken aback.

"Where did you get it?" demanded Rupert, sternly.

"Sure I got it from a cousin of my late husband, who sent it to me yesterday."

"Where does he live?"

"On Lexington Avenue."

"What is his name?"

"John Sheehan," answered Mrs. Marlow, after a pause.

"At what number does he live?"

"I don't just remember," answered the widow, warily.

"You can tell between what streets he lives."

"I think it's somewhere between Thirtieth and Fortieth Streets, but my memory isn't good."

"There is no need of making up any more stories, Mrs. Marlow. The purse contained eleven dollars and a half, including the gold piece. You spent a dollar at the grocery store. I want the balance."

"Sure you're very cruel to a poor widow, Rupert Rollins," said Mrs. Marlow, bursting into tears, which she could command when occasion required. "I never was called a thafe before."

As she spoke she drew out her handkerchief, but, unfortunately, there was something entangled with it, and the purse was twitched out and fell on the floor.

Rupert sprang forward and secured it, though Mrs. Marlow tried to put her foot on it.

"This is the purse that was taken from mother," said Rupert. "How came it in your pocket?"

"I don't know," faltered the widow. "I can't account for it."

"I can. Hereafter, Mrs. Marlow, if you ever enter our room again I will send for a policeman."

"It's my own purse!" asserted Mrs. Marlow, deciding to brazen it out.

For answer Rupert opened it, and showed written inside the name "Frank Sylvester."

"Do you see that, Mrs. Marlow? That is the name of the gentleman who gave me the purse."

"Why didn't I say that was my cousin's name?" thought Mrs. Marlow, but it was too late.

Rupert counted the contents of the purse, and found them intact, except the dollar which Mrs. Marlow had spent.

"I won't say anything about the money you spent," he said, "though I might claim the groceries. Good afternoon, and try to lead a better life."

Mrs. Marlow sank into a rocking-chair, and began to cry dismally. Her plans had miscarried for a certainty, and she felt angry with herself.

"Why didn't I put the purse in my trunk?" she asked herself. "Then he wouldn't have found out. Sure I cheated myself."

Rupert went upstairs with a light heart.

"Well, did you hear anything of the purse?" asked his mother.

For answer he held it up.

"Where did you get it?"

"It came from Mrs. Marlow's pocket."

"What a wicked woman!" exclaimed Grace. "She must have taken it when I was asleep."

"Did she give it up willingly? I thought she would have denied it."

"So she did, mother, but your son is a detective. I'll tell you how I managed it," and he told the story.

"There's only a dollar gone," he said in conclusion. "Don't leave it in the bureau drawer again, though I don't think Mrs. Marlow will trouble you with another call."

A day or two later the rent came due, and eight dollars had to be taken from the scanty fund, which left the family again very near destitution.

Rupert did not relax his efforts to secure a place, but when business is dull the difficulty of securing a position is much increased. He became anxious, and the prospect seemed very dark.

"I must do something," he said to himself, "if it's only selling papers. That will be better than blacking boots, though that is an honest business."

To make matters worse, his mother was unable to procure vests to make from any of the readymade clothing establishments.

"We've got all the hands we need," was the invariable answer to her applications.

They tried to economize more closely, but there was small chance for that. They had not eaten meat for three days, and remained contented with bread and tea, leaving out sugar, for they felt that this was a superfluity in their circumstances. It was emphatically a dull time, and there seemed no chance to earn anything.

"Rupert," said his mother, drawing a ring from her finger, "take this ring and pawn it. There seems no other way."

"Isn't it your wedding ring, mother?"

"Yes, Rupert, but I cannot afford to keep it while we are so poor."

Rupert took the ring, and bent his steps towards Simpson's, for he felt that there he would be likely to meet fair treatment.