“I don’t wish to say anything against Morrison, but I have been told that he is a gambler.  Grant may have lost money to him at play.”

“Or you,” thought the broker; but he said: 

“Your suggestion is worth considering, but I don’t think Grant has had any opportunity to lose money in that way, as he spends his evenings usually at home.”

“It wouldn’t take long to lose a great deal of money, sir.”

“That explains it,” said the housekeeper, speaking for the first time.  “I have no doubt Willis is right, and the boy gambles.”

“I presume, Mr. Ford,” said the broker, with a peculiar look, “that you do not approve of gambling?”

“Most certainly not, sir,” said Ford, his face expressing the horror which a so-well-conducted young man must naturally feel for so pernicious a habit.

“I am glad to hear it.  Will you excuse me a moment?”

After the broker had left the room, Mrs. Estabrook turned to Willis and said:  “You are pretty sharp, Willis.  You have found out this wretched boy, and now I think we shall get rid of him.”

“I flatter myself, mother,” said Willis, complacently, “that I have given the old man some new ideas as to the character of his favorite.  I don’t think we shall see him in the office again.”

As he spoke, his ears caught the sound of ascending footsteps on the stairs without.  He was rather puzzled.  He conjectured that Grant had been summoned to confront his accuser, but there seemed, from the sound, to be more than two approaching.  When the door opened, and the broker gravely ushered in Jim Morrison and Tom Calder, both looking ill at ease, followed by Grant Thornton, he looked amazed and perplexed.

“I believe you know these gentlemen,” said Mr. Reynolds, gravely.  “I have thought it best to make our present investigation thorough and complete.”

“I have met the gentlemen before,” said Ford, uncomfortably.

“You also have met them, Grant, have you not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you had any business transaction with either?”

“Yes, sir.  Mr. Morrison met me on Wall Street and handed me two bonds, with a request that I would sell them for him, and hand him the money the next morning, at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.”

“Were these the same bonds that you sold to Mr. Ford?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think the boy is lying, sir,” burst out Ford.

“What have you to say to the boy’s story, Mr. Morrison?” asked the broker.

“He’s made a little mistake,” answered Jim Morrison, who by this time was feeling more at his ease.  “I didn’t give him no bonds.”

Willis Ford looked triumphant, and Grant amazed.

“How, then, could there be any business between you?”

“I may as well own up that I am a gambler,” replied Morrison, with virtuous frankness.  “The boy lost the money to me at play, and said he’d meet and pay me at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.  I didn’t know where he was goin’ to get the money, but I expect he must have stolen the bonds, and got it that way.”