"It is a man. Will you work with me in this, so as to keep suspicion from my father? Tacitly let him think you are doing what you can to investigate the affair. When no result is brought forth, he will suppose you have been unsuccessful." "Of course, sir, if you tell me I am not to go on with it, why I won't, and it is at an end. Law bless me! Lots of things are put into our hands one day; and, the next, the family comes and says, Hush 'em up." "So far good, Mr. Butterby. But now, I wish you, for my own satisfaction, to make some private investigation into it. Quite secretly, you understand: and if you can learn anything as to the thief, bring the news quietly to me." Mr. Butterby thought this was about as complete a contradiction to what had gone before as it had been ever his lot to hear. He took refuge in his silent gaze and waited. Bede Greatorex put his elbow on the table and his hand to his head as he spoke. "If I were able to confide to you the whole case, Mr. Butterby, you would see how entirely it is encompassed with doubts and difficulties. I have reason to fancy that the purloiner of the cheque out of this desk must have been one of the clerks in my room. I think this for two reasons; one is, that I don't see how anybody else could have had access to it." "But, sir, you stood it out to their faces just now that you did _not_ suspect them." "Because it will not do for them to know that I do. I assure you, Mr. Butterby, this is a most delicate and dangerous affair. I wish to my heart it had never happened." "Do you mean that the clerk, in taking it--if he did take it--was acting as the agent of some other party?" Bede Greatorex nodded. "Yes, only that." "But _that's_ enough to transport him, you know," cried Butterby, slightly losing the drift of the argument. "If we could bring him to book, yes. But that must not be done. I _don't_ see who else it could have been," added Bede, communing with himself rather than addressing Mr. Butterby; and his face wore a strangely perplexed look. "Could any of the household--the maidservants, for instance--get into this here room?" asked Mr. Butterby. "There's not one of them would dare to risk it in the daytime. They are in the other house. No, no; I fear we must look to one of the young men in the next room." Mr. Butterby nodded with satisfaction: matters seemed to be taking a more reasonable turn. "Let's see; there's four of them," he began, beginning to tell the clerks off on his fingers. "The manager, Brown, confidential, you said, I think----" "I did not say confidential," interrupted Bede Greatorex. "I said we placed great confidence in him. There's a distinction, Mr. Butterby." "Of course. Then there's the little man, Jenner; and the others, Hurst and Yorke. Have you any doubt yourself as to say one of them?" quickly asked Mr. Butterby, looking full at the lawyer.