"Then you might find the ticket somewhere about."
Upon this hint, Mrs. Hill went up to Ben's room, and there, upon the bureau, she naturally found the ticket.
"I thought so," she said to herself. "Conrad was right. The boy is a thief. Here is the ticket made out to him by name. Well, well, he's brazen enough, in all conscience. Now shall I show it to Cousin Hamilton at once, or shall I wait until the detective has reported?"
On the whole, Mrs. Hill decided to wait. She could delay with safety, for she had proof which would utterly crush and confound the hated interloper.
Meanwhile, the detective pursued his investigations. Of course, he visited Simpson's, and there he learned that the opera glass, which he readily recognized from the description, had been brought there a few days previous.
"Who brought it?" he asked.
"A boy of about sixteen."
"Did he give his name?"
The books were referred to, and the attendant answered in the affirmative.
"He gave the name of Ben Barclay," he answered.