"I will do so, sir. But I don't think any harm of her. She may have been unfortunate enough to think too much of the kindness with which he treated her. If so, I pity her--she could hardly help it, poor thing. Henry Moreland was a young gentleman a good many people loved." She put her handkerchief to her eyes in a fresh burst of tears. Wishing her good-morning, I turned toward the village, hardly caring what I should do next. Mrs. Scott was an American woman, and one to be trusted; I felt that she would be the best detective I could place at that spot. When I reached the office, on my homeward route, I went in. Mr. Argyll was there alone, his head leaning on his hand, his face anxious and worn, his brow contracted in deep thought. As soon as I came in, he sprung up, closed the outer door, and said to me, in a low voice, "Richard, another strange thing has occurred." I stared at him, afraid to ask what. "I have been robbed of two thousand dollars." "When and how?" "That is what I do not know. Four days ago I drew that amount in bills from the Park Bank. I placed it, in a roll, just as I received it, in my library desk, at home. I locked the desk, and have carried the key in my pocket. The desk has been locked, as usual, every time that I have gone to it. How long the money has been gone, I can not say; I never looked after it, since placing it there, until about an hour ago. I wanted some cash for expenses this afternoon, and going for it, the roll was gone." "Haven't you mislaid it?" "No. I have one drawer for my cash, and I placed it there. I remember it plainly enough. It has been stolen"--and he sat down in his chair with a heavy sigh. "That money was for my poor Eleanor. She was to complete her wedding outfit this week, and the two thousand dollars was for refurnishing the place out at the Grove. I don't care for the loss so much--she doesn't need it now--but it's singular--at this time!" He looked up at me, vague suspicions which he could not shape floating in his brain. "Who knew of your having the money?" "No one, that I am aware of, except my nephew. He drew it for me when he went down to the city last Wednesday." "Could you identify the money?" "Not all of it. I only remember that there was one five hundred dollar bill in the package, a fresh issue of the Park Bank, of which, possibly, they may have the number. The rest was city money of various denominations and banks. I can think of but one thing which seems probable. James must have been followed from the city by some professional thief, who saw him obtain the money, and kept an eye upon it, waiting for a suitable opportunity, until it was deposited in the desk. The key is a common one, which could be easily duplicated, and we are so careless in this quiet community that a thief might enter at almost any hour of the night. Perhaps the same villain dogged poor Henry in hopes of another harvest." "You forget that there was no attempt to rob Henry."