“Good!  I took the number of those the boy gave me for sale.”

Mrs. Estabrook found the memorandum.  It was compared with one which Willis Ford brought with him, and the numbers were identical.  Four numbers, of course, were missing from Ford’s list.

“That seems pretty conclusive, mother.  The young rascal has stolen your bonds, and offered a part of them for sale.  It was certainly bold in him to bring them to our office.  Is he in the house?”

“I’ll go and see.”

“And bring Mr. Reynolds with you, if you can find him.”

In an excited state, scarcely knowing what she did, the housekeeper went downstairs and found both parties of whom she was in search in the same room.  She poured out her story in an incoherent manner, inveighing against Grant as a thief.

When Grant, with some difficulty, understood what was the charge against him, he was almost speechless with indignation.

“Do you mean to say I stole your bonds?” he demanded.

“Yes, I do; and it was a base, cruel act.”

“I agree with you in that, Mrs. Estabrook.  It was base and cruel, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“You dare to say that, when you brought the bonds to my son, Willis, to be sold to-day?”

“Is this true, Grant?” asked Mr. Reynolds.  “Did you sell any bonds at the office to-day?”

“Yes, sir.”

The broker looked grave.

“Where did you get them?” he asked.

“They were handed to me by an acquaintance in Wall Street.”

“Who was he?”

“His name is James Morrison.”

“What do you know of him?  Is he in any business?”

“I know very little of him, sir.”

“Have you handed him the money?”

“No, sir.  I am to meet him to-morrow morning at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and pay him.”

“Why doesn’t he call at the office?”

“I don’t know,” answered Grant, puzzled.  “I suggested to him to bring the bonds to the office himself, but he said he was in haste, and offered me a dollar to attend to the matter.”

“This seems a mysterious case.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds, but I think it is plain enough,” said the housekeeper, spitefully.  “That boy opened my bureau drawer, and stole the bonds.”

“That is not true, Mr. Reynolds,” exclaimed Grant, indignantly.

“How did you know the bonds were offered for sale at my office to-day, Mrs. Estabrook?” inquired the broker.

“My son—­Willis Ford—­told me.”

“When did you see him?”

“Just now.”

“Is he in the house?”

“Yes, sir.  I left him in my room.”

“Ask him to be kind enough to accompany you here.”

The housekeeper left the room.  Grant and his employer remained silent during her absence.

CHAPTER XVII

THE TELLTALE KEY