Ripley was in high spirits all through the week. All through that Saturday forenoon he moved about in a trance of exultation. Yet, underneath it all, he was somewhat seedy in a physical sense, for he had been out late the night before to meet Tip and hand over some money. Late that Saturday forenoon, Lawyer Ripley returned from a business trip. Soon after he returned home, and had seen a man in his library, he went in search of his wife. "Where's Fred?" demanded the lawyer. "He went out up the street, to get a good walk," replied Mrs. Ripley. "You know, my dear, he is to pitch for Gridley in one of the biggest games of the season this afternoon." "Hm!" said the lawyer. "Well, see here. Let Fred have his luncheon. Don't say a word until then. As soon as he is over with the meal, send him to me in the library. Don't give him any hint until he has finished eating." "Is---is anything wrong?" asked Mrs. Ripley, turning around quickly. "Just a few little questions I want to talk over with the boy," replied Mr. Ripley. It was shortly after one o'clock when Fred stepped into the library. This apartment was really in two rooms, separated by folding doors. In the front room Mr. Ripley had his desk, and did his writing. Most of his books were in the rear room. At the time when Fred entered the folding doors were closed. "You wished to see me, sir?" Fred asked, as he entered. "Yes," said his father, pointing to a chair; "take a seat." "I hope it isn't anything that will take much time," hinted Fred. "you know, sir, I've got to be at the field early this afternoon. I am to pitch in one of the biggest-----" "I'll try to be very brief," replied the lawyer, quietly. "Fred, as you know, whenever I find I have more money about me than I care to carry, I put it in the private safe upstairs. Your mother and I have a place where we hide the key to that old-fashioned safe. But, do you know, I have been missing some money from that safe of late? Of course, it would be sheer impudence in me to suspect your mother." "Of course it would," agreed Fred, with feigned heartiness. He was fighting inwardly to banish the pallor that he knew was creeping into his cheeks. "Have you any theory, Fred, that would help to account for the missing of these sums of money?" pursued the lawyer, one hand toying with a pencil. "Do you suspect any of the servants?" asked the boy, quickly. "We have had all our servants in the family for years," replied the lawyer, "and it would seem hard to suspect any of them." "Then whom can you suspect, sir?"