Captain Sam shook his head.  “So you decided to be a thief, did you, Jed?” he said, slowly.  “Well, the average person never’d have guessed you was such a desperate character. . . .  Humph! . . .  Well, well! . . .  What was you goin’ to do with the four hundred, provided you had kept it?  You spent the money I lost anyway; you said you did.  What did you spend it for?”

“Oh—­oh, some things I needed.”

“Sho!  Is that so?  What things?”

Jed’s shaking hand moved across his chin.

“Oh—­I—­I forget,” he faltered.  Then, after a desperate struggle, “I—­I—­I bought a suit of clothes.”

The effort of this confession was a peculiar one.  Captain Sam Hunniwell put back his head and roared with laughter.  He was still laughing when he picked up his hat and turned to the door.  Jed sprang from his seat.

“Eh? . . .  You’re not goin’, are you, Sam?” he cried.  The captain, wiping his eyes, turned momentarily.

“Yes, Jed,” he said, chokingly, “I’m goin’.  Say, if—­if you get time some of these days dress up in that four hundred dollar suit you bought and then send me word.  I’d like to see it.”

He went out.  The door of the outer shop slammed.  Jed wiped the perspiration from his forehead and groaned helplessly and hopelessly.

The captain had reached the gate when he saw Phillips coming along the road toward him.  He waited until the young man arrived.

“Hello, Captain,” hailed Charles.  “So you decided not to come back to the bank this afternoon, after all?”

His employer nodded.  “Yes,” he said.  “I’ve been kept away on business.  Funny kind of business, too.  Say, Charlie,” he added, “suppose likely your sister and you would be too busy to see me for a few minutes now?  I’d like to see if you’ve got an answer to a riddle.”

“A riddle?”

“Um-hm.  I’ve just had the riddle sprung on me and it’s got my head whirlin’ like a bottle in a tide rip.  Can I come into your house for a minute and spring it on you?”

The young man looked puzzled, which was not surprising, but his invitation to come into the house was most cordial.  They entered by the front door.  As they came into the little hall they heard a man’s voice in the living-room beyond.  It was Major Grover’s voice and they heard the major say: 

“It doesn’t matter at all.  Please understand I had no thought of asking.  I merely wanted you to feel that what that fellow said had no weight with me whatever, and to assure you that I will make it my business to see that he keeps his mouth shut.  As for the other question, Ruth—­”

Ruth Armstrong’s voice broke in here.

“Oh, please,” she begged, “not now.  I—­I am so sorry I can’t tell you everything, but—­but it isn’t my secret and—­and I can’t.  Perhaps some day—­ But please believe that I am grateful, very, very grateful.  I shall never forget it.”