After a moment's thought the old lady continued: "Leave the pocketbook with me, and say nothing about what has happened till I give you leave."
"Very well."
Mrs. Merton took the pocketbook, replaced it in the drawer, and carefully locked it.
"Someone must have a key that will open this drawer," she said. "I should like to know who it is."
"Do you think anyone will open it again?" asked Luke.
"No; it will be supposed that I will no longer keep money there. I think, however, I will sooner or later find out who opened it."
"I hope it won't prove to be Harold."
"I hope so, too. I would not like to think so near a relative a thief. Well, Luke, I won't detain you here any longer. You may come to-morrow, as usual."
"It is lucky Mrs. Merton has confidence in me," thought Luke. "Otherwise she might have supposed me to be the thief. What a mean fellow Harold Tracy is, to try to have an innocent boy suspected of such a crime."
As he was going out of the front door, Mrs. Tracy entered.