"So you are," answered Steel genially. "I'm sure she'll give you a proof of her approval to-day. Now don't cry, boy." Steel shook Alexander, and then demanded suddenly, "You copy all the letters, do you not?" "Yes, I do," answered Master Benker, wondering why this was asked. "And you read them sometimes?" "Nearly always. I like to know what's going on. Mr. Wilson said I should make myself acquainted with everything." "I'm sure he did," muttered Steel ironically. "Did you read any letter saying that Miss Kent had inherited a fortune? Miss Daisy Kent, who lived with Mr. Morley at Rickwell?" Alexander thought for a moment. "Yes, I did. It was a letter to some lawyers in Sydney." "Did you tell Mr. Wilson about it?" "Yes, sir. He was always talking about people coming in for money, and I said that a girl called Miss Kent had come in for five thousand a year." "I thought so. When did you tell Mr. Wilson this?" "Three days after Christmas." "Before he offered to serve the summons?" "Why, I hadn't got the summons then," said Alexander. "Mr. Asher gave it to me the day before New Year. I said I was going into the country to Rickwell, for Mr. Wilson asked me what I was making myself smart for. He said he'd take the summons, and that I could go to the Hippodrome with Jim Tyler." "Which you did on your employer's money. You are a smart lad, Alexander. What did your mother say?" "Mother was out when I came home with the summons, and after Mr. Wilson said he'd take it I didn't say anything to her." "Then she thought that on the day before the New Year you were at the office as usual?" "Yes," snuffled Master Benker, "she did. Oh, Lor'!" as the cab stopped before a tidy house in a quiet street, "here we are." "And there is your mother," said the detective cheerfully, as a severe face appeared at the white-curtained window. Alexander wept afresh as Steel paid the cabman, and positively howled when the door opened and his mother--a lean woman in a black dress, with a widow's cap--appeared. He would have run away but that Steel again had a hand on his collar. "Alexander," cried his mother harshly, "what have you been doing?" "Nothing very dreadful, ma'am," interposed Steel. "It will be all right. Let me in, and I'll speak for my young friend." "And who may you be, sir?" demanded Mrs. Benker, bristling. "A personal friend of Mr. Asher's." On hearing this dreaded name Mrs. Benker softened, and welcomed Steel into a neat parlor, where he seated himself in a horsehair mahogany chair of the most slippery description and related what had happened. Alexander stood by and wept all the time. He wept more when his mother spoke. "I expected it," she said in quiet despair; "that boy is the bane of my life. I'll speak to you shortly, Alexander. Go to your room and retire to bed." "Oh, mother! mother!" cried Master Benker, writhing at the prospect of a thorough whipping.