"There, some more gone, Paul!"
"But it's nearly ten days since we talked it over last, and then there were, let me see, I believe six coins left," returned the other, quickly.
"That's true enough. And I can see now that you're wondering why none have been taken all this time, up to to-day," remarked Jack, as he came alongside his chum, who was looking in at a window where sporting goods made a brave display.
"Will Carlo hang around and wait for you a bit?" asked Paul, looking with a smile toward the big Newfoundland dog that had been trotting at the heels of his young master, carrying a basket, in which were several packages from the store.
"Sure. He's well trained, and that is one of the smallest of his stunts, as you know. See, he has laid the basket down, and stands guard over it. I dare any dog in Stanhope to try and take it away. Now, you want to know about my poor old batch of coins!"
"I'm waiting to hear, old fellow," said Paul, tenderly; for he could see that his chum was once again highly charged with emotion.
"I thought I'd try a scheme unbeknown to you," began the other, slowly.
"Perhaps I can guess what you did—was it that you locked the door of your little den, Jack?"
"Well, now, you are a champion guesser, for that was just what I did, every day up to this one—shut down the window, locked the door, and never went up there once," replied his comrade, with surprise written on his face.
"And nothing was missing?"