"Humph! They might have been stolen this morning!" exclaimed Ferris.

"Or last night," added Saunders. "The last I saw of the cuff-b.u.t.tons was last night, and the pocket-book yesterday noon."

"I don't see how that can be possible," replied Hal, quietly.

"It's easy enough," exclaimed Ferris. "Just because I was home during the afternoon, and you were not, doesn't prove that you didn't take the things."

"No, that doesn't, but something else does," replied Hal.

"What?"

"This newspaper, which was wrapped around the box."

At these words Ferris grew white, and trembled from head to foot.

"What about the paper?" asked Saunders, curiously.

"It is an afternoon paper, dated to-day. It could not possibly have been put around the box before one o'clock this afternoon."

CHAPTER XII.

HAL IN A FEARFUL SITUATION.

Every one in the room was surprised at Hal Carson's unexpected statement.

"Let me see the paper!" cried Saunders.

Hal handed it over, and the dry-goods clerk scanned it eagerly.

"You are right," he muttered, and shook his head.

"That can't be the same paper that was around the box," put in d.i.c.k Ferris, very red in the face.

"It certainly is," replied Hal.

"Yes, I saw Carson pick it up from the spot where I threw it," returned Saunders. "This puts a new face on the matter," he added, with a sharp look at Ferris.

Mrs. Ricket also looked at her nephew.

"d.i.c.k, come here," she commanded.

"What do you want?" he demanded, doggedly.

"I want you to return Mr. Saunders' fourteen dollars."

"I haven't got it."

"I know better."

"What, Aunt Amanda, are you going back on me, too?" cried Ferris, in a pretended reproachful tone.

"I tried to believe all along against my better judgment that you were innocent," said the landlady. "But I can't believe it any longer, and when you try to throw the blame on somebody who is innocent, I've got to speak my mind." Mrs. Ricket's voice began to grow stern. "Give up the money, and ask Mr. Saunders to forgive you before he sends for a policeman and has you arrested."

This was a long speech for Mrs. Ricket, and she almost gasped for breath after she had finished.

d.i.c.k Ferris' face grew black as he listened to the words.

"You're a nice aunt to me!" he stormed. "Just wait till I tell dad about it when he comes home next time."

But now Saunders had the fellow by the collar.

"Which is it, the money or the station-house?" he asked, shortly.

d.i.c.k Ferris looked into the determined black eyes, and then his courage oozed away.

"Will you promise not to do anything, if I give you fourteen dollars?"

he asked.

"Yes."

"Then here you are." He brought forth his pocket-book, and took out a roll of bills. "I didn't take your money, but it's no fun to be hauled up."

"Why, d.i.c.k, where did you get so much money?" cried Mrs. Ricket, in amazement.

"I earned it," replied the fellow, coolly. "Here you are, Saunders. Now, unlock the door and let me out."

Saunders took the fourteen dollars, counted them over, and then did as requested. Without another word Ferris hurried out and down the stairs.

"I hope you are satisfied," said Hal, to the dry-goods clerk.

"I am sorry I suspected you," returned Saunders. "What a mean dog Ferris is."

"He is down on me because I am filling the position he was discharged from," explained Hal.

"Unless he takes a turn for the better I shall tell him to leave the house," cried Mrs. Ricket, trying to dry away her tears. "Ever since he came, two years ago, he has been a torment to me. I only keep him for my poor dead sister's sake."

"How about this stuff?" questioned Saunders, pointing to the inkstands and the boxes of pens.

"I shall return them to Sumner, Allen & Co."

"Queer how that boy got hold of those things," said Mrs. Ricket.

Hal pretended not to hear the remark, and a moment later Saunders and the landlady left the room.

"So that was the plot against me," muttered Hal, as he fixed up to go to supper. "I wonder what Hardwick will say when he hears how it turned out?"