"Would you recognize the bill you paid if you should see it again?" "Yes, sir." "Is this the bill?" asked the lawyer, exhibiting the note taken from the grocer, and now in the custody of the court. Mr. Holbrook took the bill in his hand, and, turning it over, looked at the reverse side. All eyes were upon him, and there was a hush of expectation, for it was felt that the whole case hinged upon the answer to this question. "This is not the same bill," answered the landlord composedly. Bert's friends looked joyful, and Mr. Jones looked dismayed. "He is mistaken!" ejaculated the grocer, much perturbed. "Of course," continued the young lawyer, "you have some means of identification. Please state to the court how you know that this is not the same bill." "The bill which I paid to Mr. Jones," answered the landlord, "had the letters I. W. written in red ink on the back. This note has no such mark." Conway looked triumphant. It was his turn now. He took the bank-note, and holding it up in sight of all, called the attention of the court and those present to the fact attested by the witness. "It is clear," he said, "that nothing was ever written on the back of this note in red ink." "It might have been effaced," suggested the grocer querulously. "The bill, since it was taken from the complainant, has been in charge of the court," said Conway. "I hardly think the complainant will dare to assert that it has been tampered with. And now, your honor," turning to the presiding judge, "I submit that the charge has been completely answered. We have shown that the bill tendered by my client was not the bill lost by Mr. Jones. I claim his discharge." Squire Marlowe hesitated, but he could think of no pretext for holding Bert, since the case against him had so signally failed. "The prisoner is discharged!" he said briefly, and rose from his seat. Bert's friends surrounded him, and he began to fear that in their enthusiasm they would shake his hand off. It was almost as serious as being a Presidential candidate. It is needless to say, however, that Mr. Jones was not one of the friends who congratulated him. He, on the other hand, looked decidedly grumpy, and as if he had lost his best friend. He pushed his way through the crowd up to the young lawyer. "This is all very fine, Mr. Lawyer," he said, "but will you tell me how I am to get my money back?" "What money, Mr. Jones?" "The twenty-dollar bill taken from my desk, of course." "I wish I could, Mr. Jones, but I know no more than the man in the moon." "Is that all the satisfaction I am going to get?" demanded Jones angrily. "From me--yes. You will have to find the person who actually took the money." "I don't see how I am to do it. I would have sworn that it was Bert Barton, and I am not sure now----" "Stop there, Mr. Jones! If after my client's full vindication you insinuate any charge of dishonesty, I shall advise him to sue you for defamation of character."