for not having acted in a more manly manner at the time the assault was made.  So humiliated did he appear at the loss the bank had sustained, and so earnest was he in everything that approached a vigorous and determined chase after the robbers, that he soon became an object of profound sympathy and higher regard to the bank officers and his numerous friends in Geneva.  After fully considering this matter of young Pearson, William deemed it his duty to acquaint Mr. Silby with his suspicions.  It was due to that gentleman, he argued, that he should be thus informed, and then if results should justify the suspicion he would be prepared for what would follow, while if the contrary should prove true he would have all the more reason for his high estimation of his young assistant cashier.

He did not have long to wait before making this revelation, for in a few days after he had put his plans into operation and posted his men, William received a call from Mr. Silby, who desired to be informed of the progress that was being made.  After fully detailing to the honest old banker all that we had thus far learned, and the steps which had been taken to ascertain the whereabouts of Newton Edwards, all of which met with his hearty approval, William delicately broached the unpleasant subject.

“Mr. Silby,” said he, “there is another matter which I desire to speak of, and one which I fear may occasion you some pain, or may meet with your opposition.”

“Let me know what it is, by all means,” responded Mr. Silby, with a smile.  “I am satisfied that what you have to say is for the best interests of the bank, and it would be absurd in me to offer opposition to that.”

“Well,” said William, “there have been certain developments made in this case which, I regret to say, lead me to believe that Eugene Pearson is not entirely blameless in this robbery.”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Mr. Silby, starting to his feet, and with a tremor in his voice, which told of inward agitation; “you do not mean that you suspect Eugene?”

“I must confess that I do,” said William solemnly, “and I regret it sincerely, both on your account and his own.”

“But this will not do,” suddenly interrupted the old gentleman, “this cannot be.  Why, I have known that boy ever since his childhood, and I have loved him as my own son.  No, no, Mr. Pinkerton, you must be mistaken about this.”

“Mr. Silby,” said my son, “let us look at this matter calmly and dispassionately.  You have employed us to ferret out the thieves, and to recover, if possible, the money of which you have been robbed.  We have therefore but one duty to perform, and that is to find the men.  I have looked into this case carefully; I have noted every point thus far attained; I have weighed every item philosophically, and I tell you now, that I am convinced that Eugene Pearson knows more about this robbery than has yet been revealed.”

[Illustration:  “I tell you, Mr. Silby, I am convinced that Eugene Pearson knows more about this robbery than has yet been revealed.”]