“Yet I would prefer to have them counted again. Please go into the basement yourself, and keep the account of them while one of the men removes them from the cases.”
“Very well, sir,” replied Mr. Johnson, leaving the office in great astonishment. Such an order had never been given before during his years of service with Mr. Leonard. There was obviously something wrong.
Mr. Johnson was absent for a considerable time, during which the merchant pushed aside his work pettishly and rose and paced the floor of his office. His mind was evidently in an unsettled state.
Will returned and delivered the stamps and envelopes he had been sent for, and passed out again to his duties in the store, with a sharp glance at his restless employer.
Finally Mr. Johnson made his appearance.
“Well, sir, what result?” asked the merchant, hastily.
“It is the strangest thing,” said Mr. Johnson; “Ninety-seven pieces.”
“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Leonard, seating himself, nervously. “Can there be no mistake?”
“Ninety-seven is correct. There is one piece short in each of three cases,” was the reply.
“This is a very mysterious business,” replied the merchant, seriously. “Yesterday afternoon they were all correct. This morning they are three pieces short. What can have occurred in the night? There is no evidence of burglary. The store was firmly closed this morning?”