When Mr. Smith had made the two boys’ understand that he suspected them
of purloining the missing five-dollar bill, they were naturally very
indignant.
“Mr. Smith,” said Ben Platt, in a spirited tone, “no one ever suspected
me of dishonesty before.”
“Nor me,” said Wilkins.
“That’s neither here nor there,” said the principal, dogmatically. “It
stands to reason that some one took the money. Money doesn’t generally
walk off itself,” he added, with a sneer.
“I don’t dispute that,” said Ben; “but that does not prove that Wilkins
or I had anything to do with it.”
“You were in the room with the money for half an hour, according to your
own confession,” said Socrates.
“Yes, I was.”
“And part of that time Wilkins was also present.”
“Yes, sir,” assented Wilkins.
“I am no lawyer,” said the principal, triumphantly, “but that seems to
me a pretty good case of circumstantial evidence.”
“You seem to forget, sir, that there is another person who had an
excellent chance to take the money,” said Ben Platt.
“You mean Hector Roscoe? That is true. It lies between you three.”
“No, Mr. Smith, I do not mean Hector Roscoe. I have as much confidence
in Roscoe as myself.”
“So have I,” sneered Socrates.
“And I know he would not take any money that did not belong to him. I
mean a very different person--your nephew, James Smith.”
Socrates Smith frowned with anger. “There seems to be a conspiracy
against my unfortunate nephew,” he said. “I don’t believe a word of your
mean insinuations, and I am not deceived by your attempt to throw your
own criminality upon him. It will not injure him in my eyes. Moreover, I
shall be able to trace back the theft to the wrongdoer. The missing bill
was marked with a cross upon the back, and should either of you attempt
to pass it, your guilt will be made manifest. I advise you to restore it
to me while there is yet time.”
“The bill was marked?” asked Wilkins, eagerly.
“Yes.”
“Then, sir, you may have a chance to find out who took it.”
“The discovery might not please you,” said Socrates, with a sneer.
“It would give me the greatest pleasure, Mr. Smith. If I can in any way
help you discover the missing note, I will do so.”
“You can go,” said Socrates, abruptly.
When the two boys had left the presence of the principal, Ben Platt,
said, “What are you going to do about it, Wilkins?”
“First of all,” answered Wilkins, promptly, “I am going to find out if
Jim took that money.”
“How can you find out?”
“Did you notice that he had come out with a new ring?”
“No, I didn’t observe it.”
“He has bought it since that money was lost!” said Wilkins,
significantly.
“Do you think he purchased it with the missing bill?”
“I wouldn’t wonder at all. At any rate, I am going to find out. He must
have bought it from Washburn, the jeweler. Will you go with me, and
ask?”
“Yes,” answered Ben, eagerly. “Let us go alone. If we can only prove the
theft upon Jim, so that old Sock can’t help believing that he stole the
money, we shall be cleared; though, as to that, there isn’t a scholar in
school who would believe the charge against us.”
“Still, we may as well do what we can to bring the guilt home to Jim
Smith.”
Ten minutes later the two boys entered the shop of Mr. Washburn.
“Will you show me some rings, Mr. Washburn?” asked Wilkins.
“Certainly,” answered the jeweler, politely.
“What is the price of that?” asked Wilkins, pointing to one exactly like
the one he had seen on Jim’s finger.
“Three dollars and a half. It is a very pretty pattern.”
“Yes, sir. There’s one of our boys who has one just like it.”
“You mean James Smith, the principal’s nephew.”
“Yes, sir.”
“He bought it of me yesterday.”
The two boys exchanged a quick glance.
They felt that they were on the brink of a discovery.
“Did he give you a five-dollar bill in payment?” asked Ben Platt.
“Yes,” answered the jeweler, in surprise.
“Could you identify that bill?”
“What are you driving at, boys?” asked Mr. Washburn, keenly.
“I will explain to you if you will answer my questions first.”
“Yes, I could identify the bill.”
“Have you it in your possession still?”
“I have.”
“How will you know it?”
“It seems to me, my boy, you are in training for a lawyer.”
“I have a very urgent reason for asking you this question, Mr.
Washburn.”
“Then I will answer you. When the note was given me, I noticed that it
was on the Park Bank of New York.”
“Will you be kind enough to see if you can find it?”’
“Certainly.”
The jeweler opened his money drawer, and after a brief search, produced
the bill in question.
It was a five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, as he had
already told the boys.
“Now, Mr. Washburn,” asked Wilkins, trying to repress his excitement,
“will you examine the back of the bill, and see if there is any mark on
it.”
The jeweler did as requested, and announced, after slight examination,
that there was a cross on the back of the bill in the upper right hand
corner.
“Hurrah!” shouted Ben, impulsively.
To the wondering jeweler he explained his precise object in the inquiry
he had made, and the boys were complimented by Mr. Washburn for their
shrewdness.
“If I ever meet with a loss, I shall certainly call on you for
assistance, boys,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Washburn,” answered Wilkins, “but I do not expect to be
here to be called upon.”
“You are not going to leave the institute, are you?”
“I shall write to my father in what manner I have been treated, and let
him understand how the principal manages the school, and I feel sure he
will withdraw me.”
“Ditto for me!” said Ben Platt. “Old Sock’s partiality for his nephew
has been carried too far, and now that the only decent teacher is
going--Mr. Crabb--I don’t mean, to stay here if I can help it.”
The boys, upon their return to the school, sought out the principal.
“Well, boys,” he said, “have you come to confess?”
“No, sir,” answered Ben, “but we have come to give you some information
about your money.”
“I was sure you knew something about it,” said Socrates, with a sneer.
“I am glad you have decided to make a clean breast of it.”
“You are mistaken, sir.”
“Well, out with your information!” said the principal, roughly.
“A five-dollar bill, marked as you have described, was paid to Mr.
Washburn, the jeweler, only yesterday.”
“Ha! Well?”
“The one who offered it purchased a gold ring.”
“I don’t care what he bought. Who was it that offered the money?”
“Your nephew, James Smith!”
“I don’t believe it,” said the teacher, very much disconcerted.
“Then, sir, I advise you to question Mr. Washburn.”
“How can he identify the bill? Is it the only five-dollar bill he has?”
“The only five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, and he says he
noticed that this was the bank that issued the bill handed him by your
nephew.”
“What of that?”
“The note, which he still has in his possession, is marked just exactly
as you have described.”
“It may have been marked since it came into Mr. Washburn’s hands,” said
Socrates, but he was evidently very much disturbed by the intelligence.
He might not confess it, but he could not help believing that Jim was
the thief, after all.
“You can go,” he said, harshly. “I will look into this improbable
story.”