At last Smith went down stairs, wondering if there was no way of stopping that child’s noise, and wishing that he were a woman with nothing to do but sleep till noon, contented as a lamb, with an Irish girl slamming things about, and a jerky child yelling Hail Columbia in his ears. Mrs. Smith was too soundly asleep to hear this sarcasm, and the young lady aforesaid set up a new tune of offence, feeling deeply wronged, when her father passed down stairs, without an effort to appease her grief. James struggled under these difficulties with wonderful patience; he tossed Miss Smith into the air till she caught her breath like a sun-fish out of water. He set her down in his lap, and trotted her to Boston, with the agility of a race horse. He exhibited a pair of red morocco boots on her own little feet, which filled her with a moment’s admiration, and a burst of fervent laughter. He carried her to the window, and pointed out her father, who was talking with Boyce in front of the store, in an earnest and rather excited manner, which did not at first strike him as singular, as everybody was restless and excited that morning. But there was something strange about Boyce, who seemed to be talking in a low, eager way, and watching the thunder-cloud on his employer’s face, with keen, sidelong glances, that struck the lad who looked on as false and sinister. Even the child seemed to notice something strange about her father, and stopped crying suddenly. For some unaccountable reason the boy’s heart fell, and he watched the two as they walked back into the store with a feeling of vague apprehension. Why, a wiser person than himself could not have told; for he had done no wrong, and had no enemies, unless the young fellow, Boyce, was one. This was what had occurred in the store below. In the hurry of preparation for Mrs. Carter’s party, a considerable amount of money had been left in the desk, a circumstance that seldom happened, and which Smith had always provided against, by a deposit every afternoon. Before going up to dress, he had locked the desk, and put the key in his pocket, leaving it there when he changed his clothes. When he went down in the morning, this money was gone, and with it some of the more expensive portions of his stock—two or three small boxes of choice tea, which bore his private mark, and other articles, amounting to the value of several hundred dollars. Now, these things might have been removed from the store by one person, but a horse and wagon must have been used to carry them away, if they were taken any distance. It had been considerably after nine the night before when Smith and his wife started for the party. Boyce had gone out with Kate Gorman directly after, as he confessed, having been locked out by James Laurence, who retained possession of the key. How then could this robbery have taken place before ten.