"Whee!" he said; "you _are_ a true pirate's heir! Old Parmenter, himself, couldn't do it better. What's the matter--lose something?" "No, I didn't lose anything!" said Croyden sarcastically. "I'm saying my prayers." "And incidentally searching for this, I suppose?" picking up a pearl stud from under the bed. Croyden took it without a word. "And when you've sufficiently recovered your equanimity," Macloud went on, "you might let me see the aforesaid Parmenter's letter. I want to cogitate over it." "It's in my wallet!" grinding in the stud--"my coat's on the chair, yonder." "I don't find it!" said Macloud, searching. "What pocket is it in?" "The inside breast pocket!" exclaimed Croyden, ramming the last stud home. "Where would you think it is--in the small change pocket?" "Then suppose you find it for me." "I'll do it with----" He stopped. "Do you mean it isn't there?" he exclaimed. "It isn't there!" said Macloud, holding up the coat. Croyden's fingers flew to the breast pocket--empty! to the other pockets--no wallet! He seized his trousers; then his waistcoat--no wallet. "My God! I've lost it!" he cried. "Maybe you left it in Hampton?" said Macloud. Croyden shook his head. "I had it when we left the Weston party--I felt it in my pocket, as I bent to tie Miss Cavendish's shoe." "Then, it oughtn't to be difficult to find--it's lost between the Sampson Gate and the hotel. I'm going out to search, possibly in the fading light it has not been noticed. You telephone the office--and then join me, as quickly as you can get into your clothes." He dashed out and down the stairs into the Exchange, passing midway, with the barest nod, the Weston party, nor pausing to answer the question Miss Cavendish flung after him. Once on the rear piazza, however, he went slowly down the broad white steps to the broad brick walk--the electric lights were on, and he noted, with keen regret, how bright they made it--and thence to the Sampson Gate. It was vain! He inquired of the guard stationed there, and that, too, proving unavailing, left directions for its return, if found. "What a misfortune!" he muttered, as he renewed the search. "What a misfortune! If any one reads that letter, the jig is up for us.... Here! boys," to a crowd of noisy urchins, sitting on the coping along the street, "do you want to make a dollar?" The enthusiasm of the response, not to mention its unanimity, threatened dire disaster to Macloud's toilet. "Hold on!" he said. "Don't pull me apart. You all can have a chance for it. I've lost a wallet--a pocketbook--between the gate yonder and the hotel. A dollar to the boy who finds it." With a shout, they set to work. A moment later Croyden came down the walk. "I haven't got it," Macloud said, answering his look. "I've been over to the gate and back, and now I've put these gamins to work. They will find it, if it's to be found. Did you telephone the office?"