“And how?”

“Miles Nanson saw the man running from the house.  He was hurrying to get a doctor for his wife, who was very sick, and he didn’t stop to question the fellow.”

“But why didn’t he speak of it before?” I asked.  “He might have saved us a deal of trouble.”

“He never heard of the robbery until last night, his wife has been so sick.  He can testify to seeing the man.”

“I’m glad of that,” I said.  “But unfortunately, that doesn’t restore the money.”

“No, I suppose not.  This Stumpy still has it.”

“No; he claims to have lost it,” I returned, and I related the particulars as I had overheard them in the boarding-house on the opposite side of the Pass River.

“I wish I could find it—­ the money, I mean—­ as I did the papers,” put in Kate.

“Where did he jump over the fence?” I asked suddenly.

“Down by the crab-apple tree,” said Uncle Enos.

“Have you looked there?” queried Mr. Harrison.

“No,” said Kate; “you don’t think—­” she began.

“There is nothing like looking,” said my Western friend, slowly.

“I guess you’re right,” I replied, “and the sooner the better.”

In a minute I was out of the house.  Kate was close on my heels, and together we made our way to the orchard, followed by the others.

“Now, let me see,” I went on.  “If he went over the fence here he must have vaulted over.  I’ll try that, and note how the money might have dropped.”

I placed my hands on the top rail and sprang up to vault over.  As my head bent over, my eyes caught sight of an object lying in the hole of the fence post.

I picked it up.  It was the Widow Canby’s pocketbook.

CHAPTER XXXVI

 “ALL’S well that ends well”

Of course I was highly delighted with the success of my search, and as I brought forth the pocketbook all the others gave a cry of surprise.

“You’ve got it, Roger!” ejaculated my uncle.  “You’ve got it, just as sure as guns is guns!”

“So I have,” I replied, as coolly as I could, though I was at the top notch of excitement.

“Better examine it,” put in Mr. Harrison, cautiously.  “It may be empty.”

“Empty!” cried Kate in dismay, and the word sent a chill through my own heart.

With nervous fingers I tore the pocketbook open.  I suppose I ought to have given it to the widow, but I was too excited to think of what was just right and what was not.

“The money was in a piece of newspaper,” said the Widow Canby.  “I had—­ ah, there it is!”

And sure enough, there it was—­ nearly three hundred dollars—­ safe and sound.

I almost felt like dancing a jig, and could not refrain from throwing up my hat, which I did in such a way that it caught in a limb of a tree, and forced me to climb up to recover it.