“That he will, Willis,” said the housekeeper.  “After all the kindness that boy has received in this house, he might be better employed than in stealing my bonds, and then trying to throw it upon a man like you.”

“I don’t care to argue with you, Mr. Ford,” said Grant, quietly.  “You know as well as I do that I didn’t steal the bonds, and you know,” he added, significantly, “who did.”

“I have a great mind to break your head, you impudent boy!”

“That would be a very poor argument.  The truth has already come out, and I am vindicated.”

“I don’t know whether you expect Mr. Reynolds to shield you or not, but, if my mother takes my advice, she will have you arrested, whatever happens.”

“I intend to,” said the housekeeper, nodding spitefully.  “If you had returned the bonds, I did not mean to let the matter drop, but since you have tried to throw suspicion on my son, who has always been devoted to me, I mean to punish you as severely as the law allows.”

“I think you will change your mind, Mrs. Estabrook, and let the thief go unpunished,” said Grant, in no ways disturbed.

“Not unless you make a full confession; and even then I think you ought to suffer for your base wickedness.”

“You are making a mistake, Mrs. Estabrook.  I referred to the thief.”

“That is yourself.”

Grant shrugged his shoulders.  He was spared the necessity of answering the attack, for just then the door opened, and Mr. Reynolds re-entered.  He did not enter alone, however.

A small man of quiet manner, attired in a sober suit of brown, closely followed him.

All present looked at him in surprise.  Who was this man, and what had he to do with the matter that concerned them all?

They were not destined to remain long in doubt,

“Mr. Graham, gentlemen!” said the broker, with a wave of the hand.

The detective bowed courteously.

“Mr. Graham, permit me to ask,” continued the broker, “if you have seen any of these gentlemen before?”

“Yes,” answered Graham, and he indicated Grant Thornton, Jim Morrison and Tom Calder.

“When did you see them, and where?”

“At the Fifth Avenue Hotel this morning.”

“What passed between them?”

“They were talking about some bonds, which that gentleman,” indicating Morrison, “acknowledged giving to the boy to sell.  He asked for the proceeds, but the boy told him there was something wrong about the bonds, and his employer wouldn’t allow him to pass over the money.  Upon this, Morrison, as I understand him to be called, said they were given him by a party that owed him money, and threatened that, if he had played a trick upon him, it would be the worse for him.”

“Who is that man, Mr. Reynolds?” asked Ford, in nervous excitement.

“One of the best known detectives in the city,” quietly answered the broker.  “What have you to say to his evidence?”