"I can account for some of it at least," Mr Neil said. "I saw that the boy was troubled, and found out that he was in need of money. Eventually he asked me for the loan of five pounds. I said, `My boy, you must not begin borrowing at your age. It is a bad habit, and I won't encourage you in it. But I had made up my mind to give you a cheque for a Christmas present; and you shall have it in advance, if that would be a help to you.' He said it would, and I gave him the five pounds for which he had asked." "It was not right of you. No! you should not have done it. It was leading the boy into temptation." Philippa spoke in tones of strong reproach; but though Mr Neil's face was troubled, it was in nowise repentant. "I have been a boy in an office myself, Miss Philippa," he said gently, "for two years--two long, miserable years--and I know--forgive me for saying so--that there is an even greater temptation in being too short of money. When a lad gets his first taste of independence it goes hard with him if he cannot indulge in the little luxuries which his companions enjoy; and the shops seem irresistible. I hoped that by means of my gift Barney might be able to pay off his debts and start afresh." "You have been very generous and very forgiving, Mr Neil," said Steve; "and we are much indebted to you. But what can we do this morning? I must get to the office as soon as I can, for there are already two men away. It won't do for me to lose my berth into the bargain." Steve spoke with a tinge of bitterness, for in truth he found himself in a painful position--the position of the elder brother in the parable. He had never got into debt, nor betted, nor failed in a single instance in his duty to his sisters, and it was a little hard to realise, as he did this morning, that to each one of the four--Phil included--the curly-headed prodigal was dearer than himself. He looked at the Hermit, and asked anxiously, "Can you come with me?" "It is what I was about to propose. I am my own master, and can give all my time to the search. We had better go to the office first, and try to discover who was the companion of the tobacconist's shop; then if we get a clue I will follow it up." "Right," said Steve, and went into the little hall, to find Hope already brushing the coat which she had taken down from its peg. She helped him to put it on, turned down the collar at the back, and let her hand rest against his neck as she murmured a few low words: "Dear old Steve! What should we do without you?" It was always Hope's way to divine a wound and lay a healing hand upon it.