“I notice, however, that you are afraid to have the house searched.” “I have never expressed any unwillingness.” “Then I understand that you give your consent.” “I do.” “Very well. Then allow me to call in a party not interested, who will attend to that duty.” Colonel Ross went to the outer door, and, opening it, called: “Constable, you are wanted!” At this summons a tall, stout man—Mr. Rogers, the village constable—came forward, as it seemed, rather reluctantly. “Constable,” said Colonel Ross, “Mrs. Gilbert has given her consent to have the house searched for the bonds which were abstracted from my trunk last evening.” “Mr. Rogers,” said Mrs. Gilbert, who knew the constable well, “Colonel Ross has made a cruel and unwarranted charge against Harry. I hope you don’t believe he is a thief.” “I don’t,” said the constable, bluntly. “I’ve known your boy ever since he was a baby, and I never knew him to do a mean thing.” “Constable,” said Colonel Ross, angrily, “it does not become you to screen the guilty or make excuses for him.” “It strikes me you’re rather too fast, Colonel Ross, in making him out guilty. What proof have you of it?” “My son’s word.” “Oh!” said the constable, expressively. “You have only to do your duty and search the house, and I venture to predict that the evidence will be forthcoming that will convince even you.” “Mrs. Gilbert,” said the constable, “I hope you’ll excuse me for obeying the Colonel. I have to do it, you know.” “Do your duty, Mr. Rogers. We are not afraid to have the house searched from top to bottom.” “I don’t want to disturb your things, Mrs. Gilbert. Suppose you go round and open everything to us.” “If that will be satisfactory to Colonel Ross. I want him satisfied.” “As long as I am present, with a right to examine, I shall not object.” “It seems to me, Colonel Ross,” remarked Uncle Obed, “you are not treating the boy right.” “It is immaterial to me what you think, Mr. Wilkins,” replied the Colonel, with asperity. “Mebbe so,” said the old man. “I calculate it won’t always be so. The time may come when you will care more for my opinion.” “You flatter yourself unduly, Mr. Wilkins, I assure you.” “Mebbe so,” answered the old man, not appearing at all discomposed by the rude tone of his niece’s husband. “We will begin here, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Gilbert. So saying, she went about from place to place down below, opening whatever drawers there were, even in the pantry, and revealing nothing that looked like the bonds. “I didn’t expect they were downstairs,” said the Colonel. “Then we will go upstairs. You shall not say that we have concealed anything or shrunk from any investigation.” “Very well.”