Mary found nothing wrong when she looked into money-matters, which was a great relief to her; and Walter was in high spirits— "particularly affectionate," she told us. And yet she couldn't help an uneasy feeling that things weren't right; and Walter would not let drop a single word about where he had been, the day she went home. Two or three nights went by, nothing out of the way happening, and all seeming to go smooth: only she got puzzled at Walter having more money than he ought to have had. He wasn't "deep," though he was deceitful, and he'd often let slip things that he meant to keep to himself. Mary found him buying a new tie, which he didn't need, and then some smart new studs turned up. When she asked how he'd been able to afford them, he said something about having been "careful," and next he told her the studs were "a present from a friend," only he wouldn't say what friend. There was a good deal altogether, you see, to worry her. On the afternoon of the day before Mary brought back the watch, the policeman called to speak to her. She knew him at once for a policeman, though he was in plain clothes. He said he went so, because he didn't wish to make a stir, nor to draw attention, but there were a few questions he must ask. "Do you want to see my brother? He is out now," says Mary, wondering what it could all mean. "It'll do if I can speak to you first," says the policeman. Then he put some questions about us—how long she'd known us, when she'd left us, and so on. Mary gave him the date of the day she was hurt, and, quite natural-like, spoke of me stopping the train with holding up mother's red shawl as a danger-signal. "Yes, to be sure," says the policeman. "She had a reward for that too" —meaning me. "The best reward was knowing of all the lives she'd saved," said Mary. "But the Earl of Leigh gave her a gold watch and chain too." "And you've seen 'em, no doubt," says the policeman. "Many times, while I was in the house," Mary answered. "And know where they were kept," says the policeman. "Yes; quite well," says Mary. Then of a sudden it darted into her mind what all this meant. "Has Kitty lost the watch?" says she. "That's just it!" says the policeman. "Did they send you to tell me?" says Mary. "No; they don't know I'm come," says he. Mary said "Ah!" to this, and a little smile came over her face. She looked up at him with that same smile—you see, we heard the story after, from him as well as her, so I've got both sides of the picture, so to speak—and she says, "You don't think I've had anything to do with that, I hope!" "No," says he, "I don't. I'm sure you haven't." "I didn't know of the watch being lost till this moment," says Mary. "No," says he, "I'm sure you didn't. It isn't you!"