Mrs. Ashton, who was reading a romance from Mrs. Edge’s circulating library in King Street, lifted up her head at this; and Jabez came in, closing the door. “Then what is the errand which needs such precaution?” asked Mr. Ashton, resuming his seat and looking up at the dear face of Jabez. “I _think_, sir”—and he laid an emphasis on the “think”— “I have found out how you are being robbed, and who it is that robs you.” “You—what?” exclaimed Mr. Ashton, placing his hand on the elbows of his chair, and bending forward inquiringly. Jabez repeated his statement, adding, “I think, sir, some of your putters-out and work-people are in league to defraud you.” Out came Mr. Ashton’s snuff-box, down went Mrs. Ashton’s romance, whilst Jabez told succinctly how his suspicions had been first aroused, and how they had been confirmed that day. “I did not tell my suspicions to Christopher, sir, thinking I had best not interfere, or put the—the—them on their guard until I had spoken to you. I feared lest I should defeat your plans,” said Jabez, modestly. “Just so, Jabez, just so; you were quite right, Jabez,” said his master, whilst a shower of snuff fell on neckcloth ends and shirt frills. “Yes, quite right!” assented Mrs. Ashton, with customary dignity. “‘A still tongue shows a wise head;’ but we seldom see an old head on such young shoulders.” No active steps were taken for a few days, but Mrs. Ashton was in the warehouse, and doubly observant; and Mr. Ashton was also on the alert. They saw enough to convince them that Jabez was correct, and, acting on first impulses, Nadin was again communicated with. From the window of Jabez Clegg’s little room, Kit Townley was seen to receive payment from a fringe-weaver for his share of the spoil; and then Nadin, who knew all about it quite well enough before, followed up the clue to a waste-dealer’s who bought at his own price workpeople’s “waste” (_i.e._, warp, weft, silk, &c., remaining after work was completed), and found tradespeople willing enough to re-purchase, well knowing that commodities so varied, and so far below market value, were not honestly come by. Nadin, big and blustering when there was nothing to be gained by silence, was for hauling the whole lot off to prison—the two Kits, the waste dealer, and sundry workpeople—and the criminal code was a very terrible dispensation then. But Mr. Ashton was more merciful; he was for milder measures. Besides, Mr. Townley was an old friend of his, and for the sake of the father he forbore to drag the son into a court of justice; and unless he prosecuted all, he could not prosecute any.