"Strange thing this--terribly strange thing this about our poor-box, isn't it?" said Jared. "Seems that there's no mistake about it; but that it has been robbed again and again. Mrs Ruggles told you, I suppose?" "Yes, sir, yes," said Tim; "quite startled me, it did. But there! Lord bless you, sir, there's people in this great London of ours would rob themselves, let alone other people, or church, or poor-boxes." "Ah!" said Jared, "it is startling. Mr Timson's been talking to me about it. Sovereign of the vicar's one time, half-a-crown another, crown-piece another. No doubt about it, for it seems Mr Gray's been trying experiments." "Experiments!" said Mrs Jared. "Yes; setting traps to find out the offender." "But, surely, it must be a mistake," said Patty. "No one would be so wicked as to rob a church." "Well, I don't know, my dear; money's money," said Jared; "and your Uncle Richard says it's everything. There are plenty of people who value money more than religion." Jared was silent for business reasons now, since he was holding a piece of leather in his mouth, his hands being occupied by the concertina-bellows and glue-brush. "You're about right, sir," put in Tim, who was busy over a shrinking operation upon one of Jared's waistcoats, a proceeding which left room for the elision of the worn parts, so that it might fit a small person. "No idea, I s'pose, of who it could be, sir?" "Not the slightest," replied Jared, after placing his piece of leather _in situ_, and then preparing, with his scissors, a scrap for another part. "Glad if I had, for the rascal deserves to be punished. A man who would rob the poor, would rob--would--would do anything. Stir the fire under the glue-pot, Patty, my dear. Puts one in mind of a camp-kettle, don't it?" he said, as the young girl stirred the glowing coals, and made the flame dance about the little vessel, hung from a hook in the chimney. The little iron kettle began to sing, and Tim raised his eyes above his spectacles to peer round the room before taking a fresh hold of the garment upon which he was employed. "Ah!" said Jared, after an interval of silence, "it's a strange thing about that money. Poor Mr Gray's in a sad way about it. He named it to me--says it's so grievous, and that he thinks more of the crime than of the value of the money twenty times over." Volume 2, Chapter V. TIMSON'S CONSISTENCY.