Outside the door the smile vanished. Of course, this new evidence was only circumstantial, but it certainly supported the original theory. What puzzled Toby chiefly, though, was why Frank should steal――that is, take the money. If Frank needed money he could probably get it any time by writing home for it. There was, Toby decided as he closed his door behind him, just one explanation, which was that Frank had done it out of pure meanness! But that wasn’t a very satisfactory explanation, after all. Further reflection was interrupted by Tommy Lingard, who came for his clothes. While Toby was taking them from the hangers he studied the younger boy intently. Tommy Lingard was thirteen, a pink-and-white youngster with light brown hair and a pair of big dark blue eyes. He was a handsome youth, in spite of a very turned-up nose, and had a rather engaging way of coloring shyly when spoken to. No, thought Toby, this picture of innocence could never have stolen the money. Nevertheless Toby remarked carelessly as he folded the clothes on the end of the table: “Sorry I was out when you came before, Lingard.” The other boy reddened, but his eyes only grew rounder in surprise. “I――I didn’t come before, Tucker,” he said. “I thought they wouldn’t be ready until to-night.” “Oh, I sort of thought you did,” replied Toby. “Here you are, then.” “Th-thanks. How m-much is it, please?” stammered Lingard. “A dollar and twenty. I won’t charge for pressing the extra trousers, Lingard. They didn’t need much.” Tommy Lingard fished in his trousers pocket and drew out two folded bills and some change. One of the bills was of two-dollar denomination and the other of one. Lingard handed the latter to Toby and selected two dimes from amongst the coins. “That’s right, isn’t it?” he asked. “Y-yes,” replied Toby. He was looking curiously at the dollar bill and apparently didn’t see the change that Lingard was holding out to him. “Yes, that’s right,” he went on. “Much obliged.” “Here’s the twenty cents,” said the other. “Oh, yes, thanks.” Toby accepted it. Then his gaze went back to the bill. Lingard walked toward the door. “G-good-night,” he said. “Good-night, Lingard.” Then, as the door was shutting behind the youngster, Toby called. “I say, Lingard, just a moment, please!” “Yes?” Lingard’s voice sounded faint. “Er――you don’t happen to know where you got this, do you?” asked Toby, holding the bill out. Lingard retraced his steps slowly and looked at it. There was a full moment of silence. Then: “N-no, I don’t,” Lingard said slowly. “You see, I――” He stopped. “Why, of course I do!” he exclaimed triumphantly then. “I’d forgotten. Frank Lamson gave it to me this morning. I owed him a dollar and he asked me for it and I gave him a two-dollar bill. Is――isn’t it all right?”