“The company that was so neatly robbed has offered me five thousand dollars for the capture of the thief, and double that if I save the funds. I am here in the interest of the great Hecla Mining Company.” At this John changes his tactics--silence, contemptuous silence, he maintains no longer, but utters an angry exclamation. “You say the Hecla, of Denver?” he demands. “Those were my words, young man. It has been kept dark until this chase could be brought to a successful termination. I had hoped to lay low until receiving an answer to a message I sent, but circumstances combine to force my hand. Mr. Cereal, my dear sir, it pains me to do this thing, but duty leaves me no choice. You cannot cash that check, sir.” “Why not?” demands John quietly. “Because the money it covers is the property of the Hecla Mining Company.” “Granted it was once, but is so no longer,” continues this remarkable young man, and Sheriff Bob secretly confesses that he never before ran across so collected a customer. “O John!” cries Dorothy, taking his words for open confession and defiance. “My son, explain this thing,” says the operator, again resting his weight on the table. “My dear father, be calm. You do not see me at all excited. I am entirely innocent of this charge, and can afford to laugh at it as a good joke. I assure you solemnly, there is nothing to fear,” the young man says, disturbed by the visible agitation of those who are near and dear to him. As for Rocket, he merely humps his shoulders, and keeps both hands behind him under the spiked tails of his dress coat. His manner is in a measure contemptuous, for he believes in his case, and that the young man simply plays such a bold game as would be natural to one who had succeeded in making a clever haul of fifty thousand. Turning upon the sheriff, John asks: “Will you answer a few questions, sir?” “Oh, yes! provided I can do so in the line of professional duty,” drawls the deep bass. “Thank you, sir. Tell me first of all the name of the defaulter.” “Cheerfully--John Cereal, known in Denver as John Phœnix.” Again the two near by utter moans of grief, but John, who has more at stake than anyone else--John, who is thus boldly accused of a terrible crime--simply smiles and nods. “I thought so. You don’t know as much about this case as you supposed, Mr. Rocket. I give you the benefit of the doubt, and believe your work has been caused by a blunder, and not malice. In the first place, I am John Cereal. In Denver I have always been known as John Atherton, because that is my middle name. The Phœnix you speak of was my confidential secretary, and I am amazed and grieved to learn that Jack has gone to the bad. There are men in this city who know me--when the morning comes I shall have little difficulty in proving, even to your satisfaction, sir, that I am John Atherton, President and Manager of the Hecla.”