John Wainwright, the wealthy banker, sat in his office looking over the letters that had come by the morning mail. Some of them he turned over to his confidential clerk to answer. Others, more important, he reserved to reply to with his own hand.
"Busy, Wainwright?" asked a gentleman, Arthur Henderson, entering without ceremony.
"I always have something in hand, but I have time enough for an old friend."
"By the way, have you heard anything of the bonds you lost some time since?"
"I know where they are."
"You do?"
"Yes, they are in Canada."
Henderson laughed.
"That means that you will never get them back."
"I don't know. I have sent a messenger to recover them."
"Who is it?"
"My office boy."
Henderson stared.
"I suppose that is a joke."
"By no means."
"What is the age of your office boy?"
"I should judge from his appearance that he is sixteen."
"Do you mean to say that you have intrusted a boy of sixteen with so important a commission?"
"I do."
"Really, Wainwright, I don't like to criticise, but it appears to me that you have taken leave of your senses."
The banker laughed good-humoredly.
"Perhaps I ought not to be surprised at that."
"Then you acknowledge your lack of wisdom?"
"By no means. What I have done I would do again."
"Couldn't you find a more suitable messenger?"
"Not readily."
"It would have been worth while to go yourself, as the amount is considerable."
"That would never have answered. I should be recognized, and excite suspicion."
"Do you really expect that boy to recover the bonds?"
"I think it possible, at any rate."
"Suppose he does, what is to hinder his keeping them himself?"
"His honesty."
"Pardon me, Wainwright, but I have had a pretty extensive experience, and I would be willing to wager ten to one that you will never see your bonds again."
"I never bet, and hold that betting is no argument. But I too have had some experience of men and consider my chance of recovering the stolen property fairly good."
"How long since your messenger started on his expedition?"
"About two weeks."
"Have you heard from him?"
"Yes, once. There are reasons why it is imprudent for him to write too often."
Henderson smiled significantly.
"I dare say he is having a good time at your expense. What was the amount of your loss?"
"About fifteen thousand dollars."
"Since you won't bet, I will make you a proposal. If the boy recovers your bonds and restores them to you I will offer him a place in my own counting-room at twenty dollars a week."
"I don't think in that case I should be willing to lose his services. I would pay him as much as he could get elsewhere."
"There is very little chance of my being called upon to redeem my promise."
At that moment an express messenger entered the office.
"Here is a parcel for you, sir," he said.
It was a small package wrapped in brown paper, carefully tied and sealed.
John Wainwright paid the express charges, receipted for the package, and then eagerly opened it.
It was the same package which Fred had expressed from Hyacinth.
The banker's eyes were full of triumph.
"What do you say to that, my friend?" he asked.
"What is it?"
"The missing bonds. Nothing could have happened more apropos."
"You don't mean to say--"
"L............
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