As he reached the street, Loammi paused, for a thought came to him. It was a mean, despicable thought, worse than the theft. But it struck him favorably, and he decided to act upon it.

He opened the front door—for he had a latchkey—and went upstairs again. But not to his mother's room. Instead, he went one floor higher, and opened the door of Scott's little chamber. Then he took the two bills from the pocketbook and thrust them into his vest pocket.

Next he looked about his cousin's chamber, and after some deliberation lifted the lid of a small box that stood on a shelf and dropped the pocketbook inside.

Then, with a look of satisfaction, he closed the door of the room and went into the hall. As he did so another door opened upon the landing, and Ellen, the servant, came out of her own room.

She looked with some surprise at Loammi, who did not very often show himself upon the third floor.

Loammi was somewhat disconcerted by this sudden encounter. He felt that it might prove awkward for him.

He must try to account in some way for his being there.

"Do you know if Scott is in the house?" he asked.

"I don't think so."

"I thought he might be in his room, and so came up. But he doesn't appear to be there."

"I think he went out after supper," said Ellen, accepting the explanation.

"Well, it doesn't matter. I shall see him to-morrow morning, at any rate."

Loammi went downstairs and out into the street once more.

"It is well I had my wits about me," he thought, complacently. "That was a pretty good explanation. Ellen won't suspect anything. She will think it is all right."

Loammi walked briskly. He was in good spirits, for it made him feel comfortable to think he had six dollars in his pocket. He could not remember the time when he had so much money in his pocket at once.

"An ice cream would taste good," he thought.

Like many young people, Loammi had a weakness for ice cream.

He walked over to Sixth Avenue, and entered a small ice cream saloon. Just at the door he met Paul Granger. He was already entering the saloon, when he caught sight of Paul.

Had he seen him sooner he would perhaps have walked on, and put off the ice cream. As it was, he made the best of the situation.

"How are you, Paul?" he said, cordially. "Come in and have an ice cream."

"I thought you didn't have any money?" replied Paul, surprised.

"Oh, well, my ship has come in," said Loammi, lightly.

"Then I hope you will be able to pay me the dollar you owe me."

"I will. Now let us sit down and enjoy the ice cream."

They sat down at a small table, and the ice cream was brought, with a plate of cake besides.

Paul Granger began to think Loammi was a nice fellow, after all—especially when he received back the dollar a little later on. In paying for the ice cream, Loammi got the five-dollar bill changed.

"Whew! I should think your ship had come in," exclaimed Paul. "You'll be in funds now."

"Yes, for a little while."

As the two boys left the ice-cream saloon they came upon Scott, who was just passing. This annoyed Loammi, who didn't care to have his cousin know that he had been spending money.

"Good-evening, Loammi," said Scott, politely.

"Who is that boy, Loammi?" asked Paul, when Scott had gone on.

"A cousin of mine. He is poor, and pa gave him a place in the store."

"He seems like a nice fellow. Why didn't you introduce me?"

"He isn't in our set," said Loammi. "I didn't think you'd care to know him."

"Oh, I am not so snobbish as that. Besides, he is a cousin of yours."

"That is true. I suppose we all have poor relations."

"Yes; the boy I like best is a poor relation of mine—a cousin."

The two boys walked as far as Bryant Park and sat down on a bench. They talked about such subjects as interest schoolboys, till Paul, looking at his watch, said: "It is time for me to go home; mother has a bad headache, and I promised I wouldn't stay out late."

Meanwhile, Mrs. Little had a call from her seamstress, who brought home some work upon which she had been engaged.

"What is the charge?" asked Mrs. Little.

"Two dollars."

Mrs. Little felt in her pocket for her money, and didn't find it. She looked puzzled at first, then her brow cleared up.

"I remember, I laid my pocketbook on the bureau in my room," she reflected.

"Wait here a moment," she said. "I will bring you the money."

But when she reached her chamber she looked in vain for the pocketbook.

"That is strange," she soliloquized. "I distinctly remember laying it down on the bureau."

She summoned the servant.

"Ellen," she said, "have you by chance been into my chamber within an hour or two?"

"No, ma'am. Is anything the matter?"

"My pocketbook is missing. I laid it down on the bureau and forgot to take it up again."

"I am very sorry, ma'am; was there much money in it?"

"Two bills, a five and a one."

"That is too much to lose."

"It is a little awkward. Miss Green, my seamstress, is here, and I want to pay her two dollars. Do you happen to have any money with you?"

"Yes, ma'am; I can let you have the two dollars."

"Thank you. I will give it back to you when Mr. Little comes in."

"Who can have taken the money?" thought Mrs. Little. "It can't be Ellen, for she is an old and trusted servant, and there doesn't seem to be anyone else. It is certainly mysterious."

Mrs. Little did not so much care for the money; it was the mystery that perplexed her. She was sure she had placed the pocketbook on the bureau, and it could not have got away without hands.

A few minutes later Scott entered the house.

"Have you been at home this evening, Scott?" asked Mrs. Little.

"No; I went out directly after supper."

"And Loammi also?"

"Yes; we went out together."

"Did you remain with him?"

"No; we soon separated. Did you want him?"

"Oh, well, never mind. I suppose he hasn't come in yet."

"I will go to his room and see."

"If you please."

Scott reported that his cousin was not in.

"Really," thought Mrs. Little, "if the amount were larger, I might think it necessary to call in a detective."

Possibly the pocketbook had fallen on the carpet. She instituted a search, but it proved unsuccessful.

Fifteen minutes later Loammi came in.

"I wonder whether the loss has been discovered?" he said to himself. "I'll find ma, and then I shall learn."

"Good-evening, ma," he said.

"Where have you been, Loammi?"

"Oh, walking round with Paul Granger. Has Scott got home?"

"Yes."

"I am rather tired. I guess I'll go up to my room."

"Stop a minute, Loammi. Perhaps you can help me solve a mystery."

"Now it is coming!" thought Loammi.

"What is it, ma?" he inquired, carelessly.

"I have met with a loss."

"What have you lost—your watch?"

"No, my pocketbook."

"You don't say so!" ejaculated Loammi, in innocent surprise. "I hope there wasn't much money in it."

"There were six dollars—a one and a five."

"Is that so? I wonder——" and then he stopped short.

"What is it you wonder?" asked his mother, quickly.

"Oh, I'd rather not tell."

"But I insist upon your telling, if it will throw any light on my loss."

"Well, it may not mean anything, but I know Scott has a five-dollar bill. I saw it to-night. But, of course, there are plenty of five-dollar bills."