Helen met Dud Stone and his sister on the bridle-path one morning by particular invitation. The message had come to the house for her late the evening before and had been put into the trusty hand of old Lawdor, the butler. Dud had learned the particulars of the old embezzlement charge against Prince Morrell.

“I’ve got here in typewriting the reports from three papers everything they had to say about it for the several weeks that it was kept alive as a news story. It was not so great a crime that the metropolitan papers were likely to give much space to it,” Dud said.

“You can read over the reports at your leisure, if you like. But the main points for us to know are these:

“In the two banks were, in the names of Morrell & Grimes, something over thirty-three thousand dollars. Either partner could draw the money. The missing bookkeeper could not draw the money.

“The checks came to the banks in the course of the day’s business, and neither teller could swear that he actually remembered giving the money to Mr. Morrell; yet because the checks were signed in his name, and apparently in his handwriting, they both ‘thought’ it must have been Mr. Morrell who presented the checks.

“Now, mind you, Fenwick Grimes had gone off on a business trip of some duration, and Allen Chesterton had disappeared several days before the checks were drawn and the money removed from the banks.

“It was hinted by one ingenious police reporter that the bookkeeper was really the guilty man. He even raked up some story of the man at his lodgings which intimated that Chesterton had some art as an actor. Parts of disguises were found abandoned at his empty rooms. This suggestion was made: That Chesterton was a forger and had disguised himself as Mr. Morrell so as to cash the checks without question. Then Fenwick Grimes returned and discovered that the bank balances were gone.

“At first your father was no more suspected than was Grimes himself. Then, one paper printed an article intimating that your father, the senior partner of the firm, might be the criminal. You see, the bank tellers had been interviewed. Before that the suggestion that by any possibility Mr. Morrell was guilty had been scouted. But the next day it was learned your father and mother had gone away. Immediately the bookkeeper was forgotten and the papers all seemed to agree that Prince Morrell had really stolen the money.

“Oddly enough the creditors made little trouble at first. Your Uncle Starkweather was mentioned as having been a silent partner in the concern and having lost heavily himself 

“Poor dad was able to pay Uncle Starkweather first of all years and years ago,” interposed Helen.

“Ah! and Grimes? Do you know if he made any claim on your father at any time?”

“I think not. You see, he was freed of all debt almost at once through bankruptcy. Mr. Grimes really had a very small financial interest in the firm. Dad said he was more like a confidential clerk. Both he and Uncle Starkweather considered Grimes a very good asset to the firm, although he had no money to put into it. That is the way it was told to me.”

“And very probable. This Grimes is notoriously sharp,” said Dud, reflectively. “And right after he went through bankruptcy he began to do business as a money-lender. Supposedly he lent other people’s money; but he is now worth a million, or more. Question is: Where did he get his start in business after the robbery and the failure of Grimes & Morrell?”

“Oh, Dud!”

“Don’t you suspect him, too?” demanded the young man.

“I I am prejudiced, I fear.”

“So am I,” agreed Dud, with a grim chuckle. “I’m going after that man Grimes. It’s funny he should go into business with a mysterious capital right after the old firm was closed out, when before that he had had no money to invest in the firm of which he was a member.”

“I feared as much,” sighed Helen. “And he was so eager to throw suspicion on the lost bookkeeper, just to satisfy my curiosity and put me off the track. He’s as bad as Uncle Starkweather. He doesn’t want me to go ahead because of the possible scandal, and Mr. Grimes is afraid for his own sake, I very much fear. What a wicked man he must be!”

“Possibly,” said Dud, eyeing the girl sharply. “Have you told me all your uncle has said to you about the affair?”

“I think so, Dud. Why?”

“Well, nothing much. Only, in hunting through the files of the newspapers for articles about the troubles of Grimes & Morrell I came across the statement that Mr. Starkweather was in financial difficulties about the same time. He settled with his creditors for forty cents on the dollar. This was before your uncle came into his uncle’s fortune, of course, and went to live on Madison Avenue.”

“Well is that significant?” asked the girl, puzzled.

“I don’t know that it is. But there is something you mentioned just now that is of importance.”

“What is that, Dud?”

“Why, the bookkeeper Allen Chesterton. He’s the missing link. If we could get him I believe the truth would easily be learned. In one newspaper story of the Grimes & Morrell trouble, it was said that Grimes and Chesterton had been close friends at one time had roomed together in the very house from which the bookkeeper seemed to have fled a couple of days before the embezzlement was discovered.”

“Would detectives be able to pick up any clue to the missing man and missing link?” asked Helen, thoughtfully.

“It’s a cold trail,” Dud observed, shaking his head.

“I don’t mind spending some money. I can send to Big Hen for more 

“Of course you can. I don’t believe you realize how rich you are, Helen.”

“I I never had to think about it.”

“No. But about hiring a detective. I hate to waste money. Wait a few days and see if I can get on the blind side of Mr. Grimes in some way.”

So the matter rested; but it was Helen herself who made the first discovery which seemed to point to a weak place in Fenwick Grimes’s armor.

Helen had been once to the poor lodging of Mr. Lurcher to “mend him up”; for she was a good little needlewoman and she knew she could make the old fellow look neater. He had got his glasses, and at first could only wear them a part of the day. The doctor at the hospital gave him an ointment for his eyelids, too, and he was on a fair road to recovery.

“I can cobble shoes pretty good, Miss,” he said. “And there is work to be had at that industry in several shops in the neighborhood. Once I was a clerk; but all that is past, of course.”

Helen did not propose to let the old fellow suffer; but just yet she did not wish to do anything further for him, or Sadie might suspect that her friend, Helen, was something different from the poor girl Sadie thought she was.

After the above interview with Dud, Helen went downtown to see Sadie again; and she ran around the corner to spend a few minutes with Mr. Lurcher. As she went up the stairs she passed a man coming down. It was dark, and she could not see the person clearly. Yet Helen realized that the individual eyed her sharply, and even stopped and came part way up the stairs again to see where she went.

When she came down to the street again she was startled by almost running into Mr. Grimes, who was passing the house.

“What! what! what!” he snapped, staring at her. “What brings you down in this neighborhood? A nice place for Mr. Willets Starkweather’s niece to be seen in. I warrant he doesn’t know where you are?”

“You are quite right, Mr. Grimes,” Helen returned, quietly.

“What are you doing here?” asked Grimes, rather rudely.

“Visiting friends,” replied Helen, without further explanation.

“You’re still trying to rake up that old trouble of your father’s?” demanded Grimes, scowling.

“Not down here,” returned Helen, with a quiet smile. “That is sure. But I am doing what I can to learn all the particulars of the affair. Mr. Van Ramsden was a creditor and father’s friend, and his daughter tells me that he will do all in his power to help me.”

“Ha! Van Ramsden! Well, it’s little you’ll ever find out through him. Well! you’d much better have let me do as I suggested and cleared up the whole story in the newspapers,” growled Grimes. “Now, now! Where’s that clerk of mine, I wonder? He was to meet me here.”

And he went muttering along the walk; but Helen stood still and gazed after him in some bewilderment. For it dawned on the girl that the man who had passed her as she went up to see old Mr. Lurcher, or “Jones,” was Leggett, Fenwick Grimes’s confidential man.