"I wouldn't have kept it," said the landlady, "if I could have got hold of his trunk. But he got the start of me, and it was in the hands of an expressman before I knew that he was going to move. I was downstairs in the basement when Mr. Harding took the expressman upstairs, and the trunk was brought down and put in his wagon before I knew what was going on. Mr. Harding didn't even say good-by, and I haven't seen or heard of him from that day to this." "Well, Mrs. Stubbs, here are your four dollars, and I hope you will some day get the balance of the debt." Bert carried the box downstairs and into his room, where he proceeded to examine the contents, among which he was destined to come across a document of considerable interest to him. CHAPTER XXX. BERT OBTAINS AN IMPORTANT CLEW. Mr. Harding was not a literary man, and his papers would hardly have been of any value to a publisher. They consisted principally of letters, some of them ten years old. It seemed to have been a habit of Ralph Harding to keep his letters, though he probably set no great value upon them. Bert opened fifteen or twenty, and glanced over them, only to find that they related to matters in which he felt no interest whatever. He began to doubt whether they were even worth the small sum he had paid for them, when all at once he made a discovery. He found a letter dated Lakeville. "Who can have written him from Lakeville?" he asked himself, and naturally turned the page to read the signature. His heart beat quickly when he read the name of the writer--Albert Marlowe. It was dated about two years previous, and ran as follows: DEAR SIR: I have received your letter, and am surprised that you should have the boldness to write to me for money. I am sorry to hear that you have been in bad luck, but I presume it is your own fault. You are able to earn good wages, and ought to pay your own way without depending on anybody. Look at me! I was once a common workman like you, but, thanks to my energy and enterprise, I am now the owner of a large factory, and able to live in comparative luxury. I don't know why you should expect me to support you. I have a family of my own to care for, and my first duty is to them. You intimate that you are in possession of a secret which, if made known, will injure me. I suppose I know what you mean. I don't think, however, that you will find any one to believe what you may say to my disadvantage, and I warn you to be careful what you do, or I may testify that you yourself took the missing bonds. Don't trouble yourself to write to me again, for it will be time thrown away. ALBERT MARLOWE. Underneath the signature were a few lines, evidently written by Ralph Harding: