As he did so, he managed to pass close to the proprietor, who was standing at the front, and whispered:-- "_It isn't Gordon; I'll see you to-night_." Mr.Warmore was strolling homeward, swinging the heavy cane which he always carried, when, in passing a small stretch of woods just beyond the outskirts of the town, a man stepped from among the trees with the stealth of a shadow and waited for him to approach.

The merchant hesitated a moment in doubt of his identity, but the other spoke in a low voice,-- "It's all right; come on." "I wasn't quite sure," remarked Mr.Warmore, turning aside among the trees, where he could talk with the detective without the possibility of being seen or overheard.
"Well," said the merchant in a guarded voice, "what is it ?" "It was a dirty piece of business to throw suspicion on that young Gordon.
He is as innocent as you or I." "What did you learn about him ?" "You told me of that mortgage which he paid off for the farmer where he has lived so long." "Yes; there is no doubt of the truth of that." "He has been in your employ for four or five years.

You tell me he is saving, and has no bad habits.

So the paying of such a small mortgage ought not to be impossible." "By no means." "Nor would it be strange if he had a nest-egg in the savings-bank ?" "Knowing him as well as I do, I would be surprised if such was not the fact.

There is no one in the world dependent on him, and his wages are liberal.