I shook my head and stood staring at him a moment. “Are you sure?” I demanded. “Sure and sartin, sor. I haven’t touched it.” “Well then, Larry, somebody else has!” I told him. “I thought you said nothing had happened. Who’s been here, anyway?” “Not a soul, sor,” he answered quickly. “Have you been here all the time yourself?” I demanded. “Ivery minute, sor, except for a walk round yesterday afternoon and a trip to the corner last night, to lay in a bit of bread and meat like.” I had never known Larry to lie about anything at all serious, and he was obviously speaking the truth this time. “All right, never mind, Larry. No harm done,” I told him. And again Larry took himself off, thoroughly crestfallen now. But I stowed away another bit of news for Moore that night. For I was certain that my papers had been tampered with in my absence, although, fortunately, they were merely personal letters and bills. I wrote to Mrs. Furneau, asking her whether she had heard anything at all in the way of possible clews, and whether I might call and talk things over with her once more, adding that I had practically given up hope. It went against the grain a little, in view of my earlier distrust, but perhaps she was as good a starting-place as any for my social career. And perhaps, in view of the Chief’s wild suspicion of her, she was a shade better than most people, as being at least remotely connected with Margaret’s disappearance. Later in the day, I told Larry that the search was to continue and that Moore was going to help. I also told him that he was to let Moore in at any time and ask no questions, but that if he should happen to meet him outside in any way, he was not to know him at all. Traces of the green-eyed monster became apparent in Larry at once. “Oh,” said he, “’tis himself will find her no doubt, when we could not. But I’m thinkin’ he’s a mysterious kind of a man altogether. Sure the next toime I let him in, I’ll be keepin’ an eye on him pretty close, the way he wouldn’t be bringin’ in some more of his murtherin’ friends.” This would never do. “Now look here, Larry,” I told him, “this man Moore is my very good friend. And as such he’s your very good friend too. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, and don’t forget it. I can’t tell you as much about things as I’d like to at present, but I can tell you that this search is running us up against something pretty stiff—and Moore’s a mighty good friend to have in a pinch. If you don’t want to put the whole thing on the fritz, do just what I’ve told you to, and help Moore in any way possible. This is serious!” Larry shifted from one foot to the other and then suddenly he grinned in a sheepish way. “Sure, I was only foolin’,” he said, and took himself off. Never, from the beginning of our acquaintance, have I had any doubts of Larry.