Mr. Leonard and the officer were closeted in close conversation. On this occasion the latter was in his ordinary dress. The fact of the loss of the three pieces of cloth was known throughout the store, and there was no need of secrecy in this interview.

“The whole affair is growing more and more mixed,” he said, after listening gravely to Mr. Leonard. “The clew lays somewhere in your own store, but it will take time to get hold of the end of it. The parties are very shrewd.”

“I can scarcely imagine any of my young men as being dishonest,” said the merchant. “I have trusted them all, time and again.”

“And perhaps been robbed for years past. There is an accomplice here, I tell you, of some party of rascals outside. Have you had your books looked over to learn if there have been former robberies of this kind?”

“No, but I will,” was the energetic answer.

“We have been able, so far, to get no trace of the custom-house robbers. The only description to be had of them might apply to fifty persons we meet every day. They are not professionals; that I am sure of. These are outside hands, but very keen ones.”

“And the forged check?”

“Was presented by the same person,” replied the officer. “The bank teller has no recollection of the party, but the handwriting in the check and in the warehouse entry are the same.”

“It is strange—very strange,” said Mr. Leonard, abstractedly, as he selected several invoices from a pile of them he had taken from his safe.

“I am going to try the suggestion you just made,” he said, proceeding to the door.

“Harry!” he called, into the counting-room.

One of the clerks responded, coming into the room.

“I wish you to take these invoices,” said the merchant, “and compare them with the sales of these special goods. They are the first we have had of these styles, and the salesbook should show whether they have all been disposed of or not.”

“I will,” said Harry, leaving the office. His tone expressed surprise at this request.

“We will soon have that matter tested,” said Mr. Leonard. “Those are the only goods I can think of which we have lately commenced to sell.”

They were interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Wilson.

“Excuse me,” he said, coolly. “I did not know you were engaged. I have just been down to see Claxton.”

“That will rest,” said Mr. Leonard. “Sit down. We were talking over the mysterious robbery.”

“Is there any clew yet?” he asked, earnestly.

“Not a shadow,” said Mr. Fitler. “There is only this much very likely; that the thief is in this store.”

“Can that be possible?” said Wilson, with perfect coolness. “And all here have been so fully trusted. I fancy my suspicion of that boy will prove a just one, in the end.”

“I fear it may,” replied Mr. Leonard.

“I have not even let you escape in my investigations,” said the officer, addressing Mr. Wilson.

“What do you mean?” asked the latter, hastily, with a slight tinge of color.

“I mean simply to turn every stone that lies in my way and see what is under it,” said the officer, fixing his eyes upon him. “You were one of the parties having access to that safe, and control of the stolen warehouse order.”

“But I was absent from the city in Harrisburg,” replied Mr. Wilson, a little hotly. “Did you trace any guilt to me?”

“I merely wrote to Harrisburg, to inquire if a man named Miles Sartain had died and been buried on certain days named, and if one Augustus Wilson had attended the funeral; that is all.”

“You were inquisitive, indeed,” said Wilson, in a light tone. “I was there.”

“Yes. So I have learned. You must remember, sir, that I know nobody in this matter. If I got you in my vise, I would squeeze you as tightly as the meanest man in the store.”

“I hope to keep out of your vise, then,” said Wilson, laughing.

“So, as the case now stands,” said Mr. Leonard, “we have absolutely no clew?”

“We have hold of one or two threads only, but there is nothing visible yet at the ends of them.”

“I have been more fortunate, then. I have found some positive evidence.”

“How is that?” asked Mr. Fitler, quickly. He was at once full of eager attention.

“I have traced a piece of the silk into the possession of a member of my own household. No less a person than my ward, Miss Arlington.”

“Ha!” cried Mr. Wilson, in deep surprise. “How in the world did she obtain it?”

“She had learned my suspicions first, and refused to tell me. There was some one she evidently did not wish to implicate. Remember that I tell you this in confidence. It is to go no further, except as I may direct.”

“Then, why mention it at all, if you are not ready to make use of it?” asked the officer.

“Because I want your suggestions. I will not press her to reveal her secret, but we may guess at it.”

“It is a mighty odd thing. A bit of the silk strayed a’ready into your own house. Was she using it in any way?”

“Yes, as a bow.”

“Then she didn’t fancy there was anything wrong about it. She may have bought it. Is there no other silk of the same pattern in the city?”

“There is not.”

“Very odd that she should make a secret of it.”

“Could she have communicated with any person from the store?” asked Mr. Wilson.

“With nobody, I think, except the boy, Will. I sent him out to my house the other day, and he had an interview with her.”

“It is just as I thought. Everything points to that boy,” said Wilson.

“I thought so myself,” said Mr. Leonard. “I expressed my doubts of the boy, and she made no denial.”

“Did she admit anything?” asked the officer.

“No. She would not answer.”

“The boy may be used as a scapegoat. When did you first see the bow?”

“Last evening.”

“And has the lady been away from home since the robbery?”

“She was in the city yesterday.”

“Now we are coming to it,” said Mr. Fitler, straightening himself up. “Who is there in the city that she would be likely to wish to screen in such a case? What bosom friend among the ladies, or what particular friend among the gentlemen?”

“Miss Arlington is engaged to be married. The gentleman is in business in the city. But he is above suspicion.”

“What a very poor detective you would make,” said Mr. Fitler, impatiently. “It is the theory of our office, sir, that nobody is above suspicion. This man may be as innocent as she is. What we want is to trace where he got the silk. Who is he?”

“His name is John Elkton. He holds a position as principal salesman in the store of White & Bradley.”

“What time yesterday was Miss Arlington in the city?”

“In the afternoon. Probably from two to five.”

“You must find out more definitely. I will try and learn at what hours yesterday Mr. Elkton was out of the store. We need to establish the fact of an interview.”

“I don’t think there is much doubt of that.”

“I want to have no doubt of it. This matter must be traced from Miss Arlington to somebody that we can handle without gloves.”

“You will find nothing wrong about John Elkton,” said Mr. Leonard, decisively. “You may imagine that I knew him well before consenting to this engagement. Had I thought that the silk came from him I would not have spoken of it.”

“You are sure it was your silk?”

“Positively sure.”

“Then you would have acted very foolishly. Little headway we would make if we were so tender of people as that. Here is a positive clew, and you would throw it away because you know the man it points to. We want to see it pointing somewhere. If he can put us on another track well and good. If he cannot, the worse for him.”

Mr. Leonard looked as if something had left a bad taste in his mouth.

“That is all we can do just now,” said the officer. “I would like to take a turn in your cellar. That cloth robbery is the strangest part of the whole business.”