Galusha, having read so far, leaned back in his chair.  Cousin Gussie well again!  Back again at his Boston office!  Why, this was unexpected news!  He was gratified and pleased, of course.  Nevertheless, coupled with the gratification was a slight feeling of uneasiness.  Nevada—­well, Nevada was such a long and safe way off; whereas Boston was so very and dangerously near.  To a person with a guilty conscience, one with a secret to conceal, the advantages of Nevada as a residence for a possibly inquisitive relative were obvious.  And was Thomas writing merely to impart the news of his employer’s return?  Or were there other reasons?

“You will remember” [began the next sentence of the letter], “writing him some time ago, while he and I were in Nevada, asking his advice concerning some corporation, the stock of which a friend of yours was considering, either as a purchase or sale, I do not remember which.”

Galusha closed his eyes and passed an agitated hand across his forehead.  His question was answered; there were other reasons.

“You may not be aware” [the letter continued], “of the forest fire which, on April seventeenth, destroyed the sanitarium and camps in which Mr. Cabot and I were staying.  The entire institution, including our own camp, was burned and with it were destroyed all my business records, letters received, copies of letters sent, etc.  At the time we were not at all concerned with this loss, being fearful of the effect which the excitement might have upon Mr. Cabot’s health.  I am glad to say, however, that the effect, if any, was not injurious.  But the loss of all correspondence, including that with you, is now causing some annoyance.  My recollection is that I advised your friend not to buy any stock of the nature you described, or, if he owned any, not to attempt a forced sale.  As we have heard nothing further from you since, and as neither our Mr. Minor nor Mr. Barbour report your consulting them on the subject, I take it your interest in the matter is closed.”

Again Galusha leaned back in his chair.  But this time he drew a long breath of relief.  Mr. Thomas “took it” that his interest in the matter was closed, did he?  Well, it was, indeed it was.  The sole interest he now had in the Wellmouth Development Company was to forget it utterly.

And yet, if it was not concerning the Development matter that Thomas was writing, what was it?  The beatific smile which had followed the sigh of relief faded from his face and he began to read again.

“In looking over your affairs which, among others, have kept me very busy since my return, I find,” wrote Thomas, “that Mr. Barbour, at your request, sent you a check on March 13th, for fourteen thousand three hundred and ten dollars and thirty-eight cents, the same being your share of the Tinplate reorganization profits.  On March 15th, you came personally to this office and exchanged that check for five thousand