It was rather late in the evening when Paul got home, for every other evening he was employed. The old man was awake, but pretended to be asleep. Paul took off his coat and vest, and threw himself on the lounge, covering himself up with a quilt. His clothes he put on a chair alongside. It was not long before he was sound asleep, being much fatigued with the labors of the day. Old Jerry got up cautiously from the bed. He, too, was dressed, for he seldom took the trouble to undress, and cautiously drew near the lounge. He took up Paul’s coat, and threw his claw-like fingers into an inside pocket. His eyes sparkled with delight as he drew out the telegraph boy’s bank book. “I’ve got it!” he muttered, gleefully. “Paul isn’t any match for the old man! I--I wonder how much money he has saved up!” Paul slept on, unaware of the cunning old man’s treachery, and of the danger to which his little treasure was exposed. CHAPTER XI. AT THE SAVINGS BANK. Old Jerry laid down Paul’s coat, and opened the bank book, of which he had just obtained possession. He was eager to ascertain how much Paul had saved up. “Forty dollars!” He could hardly believe his eyes. How in the world could Paul have managed to save up forty dollars? “Forty dollars!” exclaimed old Jerry, gleefully. “I’m in luck for once. Of course it belongs to me. I am Paul’s guardian, and have a right to his earnings. He shouldn’t have kept it from me. I--I will go to the bank and draw it all tomorrow. Then I will put it in in my own name. That will make it all right.” And old Jerry rubbed his hands joyfully. After this theft, for it can be called by no other name, Jerry did not sleep much. He was too much excited by the unexpected magnitude of his discovery, and by his delight at adding so much to his own hoards. Then, again, he was afraid Paul might wake up, and, discovering his loss, demand from him the restitution of the book. Generally Paul rose at six o’clock, as this enabled him to get his breakfast and get round to the telegraph company at seven. He generally waked about fifteen minutes before the hour, such was the force of habit. This morning he woke at the usual time, but old Jerry had got up softly and left the room twenty minutes before. Turning over, Paul glanced toward the bed in the corner, and was surprised to see no signs of the old man. “Jerry gone out already!” he said to himself, in amazement “I wonder what’s come over him. I hope he isn’t sick.” Paul didn’t however borrow any trouble, for he concluded that Jerry had got tired of his bed, and gone out for a morning walk. He lay till seven, and then, throwing off the quilt, rose from the lounge. He was already partly dressed, and only needed to put on his coat. Then, with a cheerful smile, he felt for his bank book, which he had placed in the inside pocket of his coat. _It was not there!_ He started, and turned pale. “Where is my bank book?” he asked himself in alarm. Then it flashed upon him.