"I don't think Scott would take my money," said Mrs. Little.

"I don't like to think so myself," rejoined Loammi, "but some one must have taken it."

"You say that Scott has a five-dollar bill?" said his mother, doubtfully.

"Yes, I saw it."

"When did you see it?"

"This evening. I was surprised, for I knew he was poor."

Mrs. Little began to think that Scott might have yielded to sudden temptation.

"Won't you call Scott?" she said. "He is in his room."

Loammi obeyed with alacrity.

He knocked at Scott's door, and it was opened to him.

"Scott," he said, "ma wants to see you. Can you come downstairs?"

"Certainly."

Scott was somewhat surprised, but he went down at once.

Mrs. Little looked embarrassed. She was a kind-hearted woman, and she shrank from charging Scott with theft.

"Did you wish to speak with me, Mrs. Little?" asked Scott.

"Yes; I have met with a loss. My pocketbook, containing a sum of money, has disappeared."

"I am sorry to hear it."

"I thought possibly you or Loammi might have seen it."

"I have not seen anything of a pocketbook. When did you miss it?"

"I have not seen it since three o'clock this afternoon."

"Do you remember whether you laid it down anywhere?"

"Yes; I laid it on the bureau in my room."

"Then how could I have seen it? I don't go into your room."

"Nor I," put in Loammi.

"I hope you don't suspect either of us of stealing it," said Scott, gravely.

"I don't know what to think. Loammi tells me that you have in your possession a five-dollar bill. The pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill."

"Yes, Mrs. Little; I have a five-dollar bill of my own, I have had it for some time. This Loammi knew, and also where I got it."

"I don't know anything about that. But it seems very strange what can have become of the money."

"Ma," put in Loammi, "tell me in what sort of a pocketbook you kept the money?"

Mrs. Little gave a description of it.

"I have something to propose. Suppose you search my chamber and Scott's, to see if there is any such pocketbook in either."

"I don't like to do that. It would be acting as if I thought you dishonest."

"I have no objection for one," said Loammi. "Have you, Scott?"

"None whatever."

"Then suppose we go about it. Go to my chamber first."

The three went into Loammi's room. Of course the search revealed nothing of the lost pocketbook.

"Now, let us go upstairs."

So they proceeded to Scott's room.

Scott sat down on a chair.

"Don't mind me," he said. "Look wherever you see fit."

Loammi lifted the pillow, then the bedclothes, peered behind the table, and under the bed.

"Of course, I haven't the slightest idea of finding it here, Scott," he said, "but it is just as well to look thoroughly."

"You can't please me better."

With a nonchalant air Loammi went to the shelf, and raised the cover of a small tin box.

"What is this?" he asked, drawing from it the pocketbook.

"That is my pocketbook," said Mrs. Little, quickly. "Oh, Scott, how could you have taken it?"

"I wouldn't have believed it," said Loammi, trying to look surprised.

"Let me see that pocketbook," said Scott, quickly.

It was placed in his hand.

"Is this the pocketbook you lost?" he asked, turning to Mrs. Little.

"If it is not, it is exactly like it. Did you have one of this kind?"

"No, and I never saw this before."

Loammi looked significantly at his mother.

"I hope what you say is true," said Mrs. Little, looking troubled.

"It is true. What else was there in the pocketbook except a five-dollar bill?"

"A one-dollar note."

"I know nothing of either. Open this, Loammi, and see if either is in it now."

Loammi did so, but of course the pocketbook was empty.

"Do you think I took this pocketbook from your room, Mrs. Little?" asked Scott.

"What am I to think?"

"I can't tell you. I can tell you what I think."

"What is it?"

"That the person who stole the pocketbook took out the money and placed it where it was found."

"Oh, of course," sneered Loammi; "but who was it?"

"I don't know, but I mean to find out."

He gazed fixedly at Loammi, who flushed a little, for he saw that he was suspected.

"Ma," he said, "I hope you'll forgive Scott. Probably he will be willing to give up the money."

"I consider that remark an insulting one, Loammi. I don't want to be forgiven, nor can I give up money that I didn't take."

"Haven't you got a five-dollar note in your pocket?"

"Yes, but it's my own."

"We won't continue the discussion," said Mrs. Little, sadly. "I would a great deal rather have given away the money than lose it in this way."

"So you think me guilty, Mrs. Little?"

"I shall have to, if you don't explain how the pocketbook came to be in your room."

"That I can't do. Of course it was placed there, but I can't tell who did it."

"Of course I must report the matter to Mr. Little."

"Do so, madam. Perhaps he can think of some way to find out the real thief."

"Ma, I am sleepy. I think I will go to bed," said Loammi.

Mother and son rose, and left the room.

It will readily be supposed that Scott did not sleep much that night. He saw the awkwardness of his position.

He felt convinced that Loammi, if he had not taken the money, had secreted the pocketbook in his room with the design of throwing suspicion upon him. But how could he prove this?

That was the question, and one that baffled him.

Of course it was a despicable thing to do, but he believed that his cousin was quite capable of it.

The next morning Scott shrank from going down to breakfast. It was embarrassing for him to be looked upon as a thief, even though he were supported by the consciousness of innocence.

As soon as he entered the dining room, he saw by Mr. Little's cold and frigid expression that he had been told.

Still, nothing was said until the meal was over.

When Scott rose from the table, Mr. Little said: "Stay behind a minute, young man. I have something to say to you."

"Yes, sir."

"Mrs. Little has told me of the discovery that was made in your chamber last evening."

"Very well, sir."

"But it is not very well. It looks very bad for you."

"Mr. Little, do you think I took your wife's pocketbook?"

"The evidence is pretty conclusive."

"All I can say is that I am as innocent as you are."

"The pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill. I learn that you have a five-dollar bill."

"Yes, sir."

"I think that settles it."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Little, but you yourself probably have a five-dollar bill in your pocket. It proves nothing."

"You are very plausible, but I am not easily fooled. I have just one thing to say. Give up that five-dollar bill, and we will overlook the theft."

"And if not?"

"Then you must leave my house and consider yourself discharged from my store."

Scott was pale but composed.

"You are treating me with great injustice," he said. "My innocence will some day appear. In the meantime I shall leave your house at once, sir."

"That is for you to decide," said Mr. Little, coldly, as he rose from the table.

Scott walked up slowly to his little chamber. His heart was heavy within him.

He was innocent, yet adjudged guilty. His home and situation were taken from him, and he was turned out into the street.

He resolved to go around and see Cousin Seth. Of his sympathy he felt assured.

He rang the bell, and Mrs. Mead opened the door in person.

"Good-morning, Scott," she said, pleasantly.

"Is Mr. Lawton in?" asked Scott.

"No; he left last evening for the West, to be absent about a month. He asked me to say that he would write you in a day or two. He was called away suddenly by a telegram."

Scott's heart sank within him. He seemed to have lost his only friend.