times wicked men are thus brought to book through circumstances which they set in motion themselves.
Frank, though dead tired, was supremely happy. He had seen one delightful solution to a deep mystery, and there promised to be still another. More than once he half resolved to change his mind with regard to going out again that night; but if Lanky could stand it, there was no reason why he should not.
When he had a few minutes to speak with his father later he concluded to tell him all about it.
"You got that paper, I hope, Frank?" Mr. Allen had remarked.
"Oh! yes, sir; I laid it in the top drawer of your desk. Be careful when you open it that the document is not drawn back and lost," remarked Frank.
His father look curiously at him, for this was rather an odd remark to make.
"I can plainly see that you have some object in saying that, my boy," he smiled.
"I have, for within a few hours it happens, that I've seen such a thing occur. Father, you knew all about Willie Baxter, didn't you?"
"Yes. His father consulted with me at the time he lost that pocketbook. Perhaps I shouldn't confide this to you; but something tells me that you already know of it. Did the farmer tell you?" asked the gentleman.
