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with this boy, of whom we know nothing, except
from his own account. To my mind his story is a

most ridiculous invention."
"Mr. Pitkin, did any one enter your store just

after Philip left it to inquire after him?"
"No, sir," answered Pitkin triumphantly. "That's

a lie, at any rate."
"You will remember that Philip did not make the

assertion himself. This was the statement of the
thief who robbed him."

"Yes, of course," sneered Pitkin. "He told his
story very shrewdly."

"Mr. Carter," said Philip, "I can show you or any
one else the house in which I was confined in

Bleecker Street, and there will be no trouble in
obtaining proof of the fire."

"I dare say there may have been such a fire,"
said Mr. Pitkin, "and you may have happened to

see it, and decided to weave it into your story."
"Do you think I stole the money or used it for

my own purpose?" asked Philip pointedly.
Mr. Pitkin shrugged his shoulders.

"Young man," he said, "upon this point I can
only say that your story is grossly improbable. It

won't hold water."
"Permit me to judge of that, Mr. Pitkin," said

Mr. Carter. "I wish to ask YOU one question."
"To ask ME a question!" said Pitkin, surprised.

"Yes; why did you pay Philip in bills to-day?
Why didn't you give him a check, as usual?"

"Why," answered Pitkin, hesitating, "I thought
it wouldn't make any difference to you. I thought

you would be able to use it more readily."
"Did you suppose I would specially need to use

money instead of a check this week? Why break
over your usual custom?"

"Really, I didn't give much thought to the matter,"
answered Pitkin, hesitating. "I acted on a

sudden impulse."
"Your impulse has cost me two hundred dollars.

Do me the favor, when Philip calls next week, to
hand him a check."

"You mean to retain him in your employ after
this?" asked Mrs. Pitkin sharply.

"Yes, I do. Why shouldn't I?"
"You are very trustful," observed the lady, tossing

her head. "If this had happened to Lonny
here, we should never have heard the last of it."

"Perhaps not!" responded the old gentleman
dryly. "When a young gentleman is trusted with

a letter to mail containing money, and that letter
never reaches its destination, it may at least be

inferred that he is careless."
It will be remembered that this was the first knowledge

Mrs. Pitkin or her husband had of the transaction referred to.
"What do you mean, Uncle Oliver?" demanded

Mr. Pitkin.
Mr. Carter explained.

"This is too much!" said Mrs. Pitkin angrily.
"You mean to accuse my poor boy of opening the

letter and stealing the money?"
"If I was as ready to bring accusations as you,

Lavinia, I should undoubtedly say that it looked a
little suspicious, but I prefer to let the matter rest."

"I think, Mr. Pitkin, we had better go," said Mrs.
Pitkin, rising with dignity. "Since Uncle Oliver

chooses to charge his own nephew with being a
thief----"

"I beg pardon, Lavinia, I have not done so."
"You might just as well," said Lavinia Pitkin,

tossing her head. "Come, Mr. Pitkin; come, my
poor Lonny, we will go home. This is no place for

you."
"Good-evening, Lavinia," said Mr. Carter calmly.

"I shall be glad to see you whenever you feel like
calling."

"When you have discharged that boy, I may call
again," said Mrs. Pitkin spitefully.

"You will have to wait some time, then. I am
quite capable of managing my own affairs."

When Mr. Pitkin had left the house, by no means
in a good humor, Phil turned to his employer and

said gratefully:
"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Carter, for

your kind confidence in me. I admit that the story
I told you is a strange one, and I could not have

blamed you for doubting me."
"But I don't doubt you, my dear Philip," said Mr.

Carter kindly.
"Nor I," said Mrs. Forbush. "I feel provoked

with Lavinia and her husband for trying to throw
discredit upon your statement."

"In fact," said Mr. Carter humorously, "the only
one of us that suspected you was Julia."

"Oh, Uncle Oliver!" exclaimed Julia, in dismay.
"I never dreamed of doubting Phil."

"Then," said Mr. Carter, "it appears that you
have three friends, at least."

"If," said Phil? "you would allow me to make up
part of the loss, by surrendering a part of my

salary----"
"Couldn't be thought of, Philip!" said Uncle

Oliver resolutely. "I don't care for the money, but
I should like to know how the thief happened to

know that to-day you received money instead of a
check."

Without saying a word to Phil, Uncle Oliver called
the next day on a noted detective and set him to

work ferreting out the secret.
CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE FALSE HEIR.
In the suburbs of Chicago, perhaps a dozen

miles from the great city, stands a fine country
house, in the midst of a fine natural park. From the

cupola which surmounts the roof can be seen in the
distance the waters of Lake Michigan, stretching

for many miles from north to south and from east to
west, like a vast inland sea.

The level lawns, the greenhouses, the garden
with rare plants and flowers, show clearly that this

is the abode of a rich man. My readers will be
specially interested to know that this is the luxurious

and stately home of Mr. Granville, whose son's
fortunes we have been following.

This, too, is the home of Mrs. Brent and Jonas,
who, under false representations, have gained a foothold

in the home of the Western millionaire.
Surely it is a great change for one brought up like

Jonas to be the recognized heir and supposed son of
so rich a man! It is a change, too, for his mother,

who, though she dare not avow the relationship, is
permitted to share the luxury of her son. Mrs.

Brent has for her own use two of the best rooms in
the mansion, and so far as money can bring happiness,

she has every right to consider herself happy.
Is she?

Not as happy as she anticipated. To begin with,
she is always dreading that some untoward circumstance

will reveal the imposition she has practiced
upon Mr. Granville. In that case what can she expect

but to be ejected in disgrace from her luxurious
home? To be sure, she will have her husband's

property left, but it would be a sad downfall and
descent in the social scale.

Besides, she finds cause for anxiety in Jonas, and
the change which his sudden and undeserved elevation

has wrought in him. It requires a strong mind
to withstand the allurements and temptations of

prosperity, and Jonas is far from possessing a strong
mind. He is, indeed, if I may be allowed the

expression, a vulgar little snob, utterly selfish, and
intent solely upon his own gratification. He has a

love for drink, and against the protests of his
mother and the positive command of Mr. Granville,

indulges his taste whenever he thinks he can do so
without fear of detection. To the servants he

makes himself very offensive by assuming consequential
airs and a lordlybearing, which excites

their hearty dislike.
He is making his way across the lawn at this

moment. He is dressed in clothes of the finest
material and the most fashionable cut. A thick gold

chain is displayed across his waistcoat, attached to
an expensive gold watch, bought for him by his

supposed father. He carries in his hand a natty
cane, and struts along with head aloft and nose in

the air.
Two under-gardeners are at work upon a flowerbed

as he passes.
"What time is it, Master Philip?" says one, a boy

about a year older than Jonas.
"My good boy," said Jonas haughtily, "I don't

carry a watch for your benefit."
The gardener bit his lip, and surveyed the heir

with unequivocal disgust.
"Very well," he retorted; "I'll wait till a gentleman

comes this way."
A flush of anger was visible on the cheek of Jonas

despite his freckles.
"Do you mean to say I'm not a gentleman!" he

demanded angrily.
"You don't act like one," returned Dan.

"You'd better not be impertinent to me!" exclaimed
Jonas, his small gray eyes flashing with indignation.

"Take that back!"
"I won't, for it's true!" said Dan undauntedly.

"Take that, then!"
Jonas raised his cane and brought it down

smartly on the young gardener's shoulder.
He soon learned that he had acted imprudently.

Dan dropped his rake, sprang forward, and seizing
the cane, wrenched it from the hands of the young

heir, after which he proceeded to break it across his
knee.

"There's your cane!" he said contemptuously, as
he threw the pieces on the ground.

"What did you do that for?" demanded Jonas,
outraged.

"Because you insulted me. That's why."
"How can I insult you? You're only a poor

working boy!"


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