“That’s pretty conclusive¹ evidence, isn’t it?” said John Vincent, tapping the marked bills.

“I didn’t dream of it,” said the restaurant keeper.

“I did. I suspected him as soon as you told me he was trying to fasten suspicion upon Grant Colburn.”

“You don’t think the boy had anything to do with the theft?”

“I feel sure of it. The boy is an honest boy. You have only to look in his face to see that. I haven’t been a detective for nothing. I may be mistaken at times, but I can generally judge a man or boy by his face.”

“Does Benton know that you suspect him?”

“No. I wasn’t going to give myself away. By the way, he had quite a stroke of luck tonight.”

177“At the gambling²-house?”

“Yes. At one time he was a winner of nearly or quite five hundred dollars.”

“Then he will be able to make up to me the amount he has taken.”

“Don’t flatter yourself! I said he was a winner of that amount at one time. I didn’t say he went out with that sum. As a matter of fact, he lost it all, and left the place probably without a dollar.”

Smithson looked disappointed.

“Then,” he said, “I shan’t get my money back.”

“I am afraid not.”

“He must have taken hundreds of dollars.”

“Quite likely.”

“The villain³!” exclaimed the restaurant keeper. “And I have paid him so liberally, too!”

“Well, Smithson, it might have been worse. I suspect you have a pretty tidy sum laid by.”

Smithson’s face changed, and he looked complacent⁴.

“Yes, Vincent,” he said. “I’m worth a little money.”

178“Good! Look upon this as a little set-back that won’t materially affect you, and put it down to the account of profit and loss.”

“Very, good! I will do so. But to-morrow I will give Mr. Benton his walking ticket.”

Albert Benton came to work as usual in the morning. His employer came in half an hour late. By this time the waiter had become resigned to his disappointment of the night previous. He recognized his

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