"Clearly not," agreed Tod, laughing at his ire. "I should advertise, Preen," said the Squire, "and I should call in the detectives. They----" "I don't like detectives," growled Preen, interrupting him, "and I think advertising might do more harm than good. I must get my money back somehow; I can't afford to lose it. But as to those detectives---- Mercy upon us!" In the ardour of declamation, Mr. Preen had bent a little too forward. The chair backed from under him, and he came down upon the grass, hands and knees. Tod choked with laughter, and dashed off to get rid of it. The man gathered himself up. "Nasty tilting things, those chairs are!" he exclaimed. "Please don't trouble, ma'am," for Mrs. Todhetley had sprung forward; "there's no harm done. And if you don't mind giving me the number of the note to-day, Squire, I shall be much obliged." He declined to stay for tea, saying he wanted to get back home. When he and the Squire went indoors, we talked of the loss; Mrs. Todhetley thought it strangely unaccountable. As the days went on, and the bank-note did not turn up, Mr. Preen fell into the depths of gloom. He had lost no time in proceeding to the Old Bank, at Worcester--from whence Mr. Todhetley had drawn the note, in conjunction with other notes--recounting to its principals the history of its loss, and giving in its number, together with the information that Mr. Todhetley's name was written on it. The bank promised to make inquiries of other banks, and to detain the note should it be paid in. "As if _that_ were likely!" groaned Preen. "A rogue filching a note would not go and pay it into the place it came from." Thomas Chandler was gazetted the partner of Mr. Paul, the firm to be known henceforth as Paul and Chandler. In the first private conference that the young man held with his partner, he imparted to him the suspicions which he and Hanborough held of Dick MacEveril. For as that erratic gentleman continued to absent himself, and the time was going on without bringing a shadow of doubt upon anyone else, the new partner felt that in duty he must speak to his chief and elder. Old Paul was overwhelmed. "What a dreadful thing!" he exclaimed testily. "And why couldn't you or Hanborough mention this before?" "Well," said Tom, "for one thing I was always expecting something might crop up to decide it one way or another; and, to tell the truth, sir, I cannot bring myself to believe that MacEveril did it." "He is a villainous young dog for impudence, but--to do such a thing as that? No, I can hardly think it, either," concluded the lawyer. That same evening, after his dinner, Mr. Paul betook himself to Oak Mansion, to an interview with his old friend, Captain MacEveril. Not to accuse that scapegrace nephew of the Captain's to his face, but to gather a hint or two about him, if any might be gathered.