"Bert, my boy," said Officer Drake, "what have you to say to this?"
"That the twenty-dollar bill I handed to Mr. Jones belongs to my mother. I know nothing of the bill he says he laid on his desk."
"That's a likely story!" put in Mr. Jones, in a tone of sarcasm. "How many more twenty-dollar bills have you got at your house? I wasn't aware that your mother was so wealthy."
Again opinion was unfavorable to poor Bert. His mother's straitened circumstances were well known, and it certainly did seem improbable upon the face of it that she should have a twenty-dollar bill in her possession.
"This was the only twenty-dollar bill that my mother had," replied Bert.
"Oh, indeed! I thought as much," said Mr. Jones significantly. "Mr. Drake, do you intend to arrest that boy?" he added angrily.
"I have no warrant," returned the officer. "If you will swear that you saw him take the bill, I will assume the responsibility."
"I didn't see him take it," the store-keeper again admitted reluctantly; "but it stands to reason that it is mine."
Here a young man in the outer circle stepped forward. He was a summer boarder at the hotel, and Bert knew him slightly.
"I am a lawyer," he said, "and if Bert will place his interests in my hands I will see what I can do to throw light upon this mystery."