with laughter, giving Rodney the impression that he had said a very witty thing.

"That's a good one," he remarked, "the best I've heard for a long time. No, I haven't any of the lots with me, but I've got a circular. Just cast your eye over that," and he drew a large and showy prospectus from his pocket.

"If you should be looking for a good investment," he continued, "you can't do any better than buy a lot at Morton Park. It is only eighteen miles from the city and is rapidly building up. You can buy lot on easy installments, and I will myself pick one out for you that is almost sure to double in value in a year or two."

"Thank you," said Rodney, "but I shall have to invest my money, if I get any, in a different way."

"As what for instance?"

"In board and lodging."

"Good. That is even more necessary than real estate."

"How long have you been in the business, sir?"

"About six months."

"And how does it pay?"

"Very well, if you know how to talk."

"I should think you might do well, then."

"Thank you. I appreciate the compliment. What business are you going into, that is, if you are going to the city?"

"I am going to the city, but I have no idea yet what I shall do."

"Perhaps you may like to become an agent for our lots. I shall be ready to employ you as sub agent if you feel disposed."

"Thank you, sir. If you will give me your card, I may call upon you."

The short man drew from his card case a business card. It bore the name

ADIN WOODS. ROYAL BUILDING. NASSAU ST. Morton Park Lots.

"Come to see me at any time," he said, "and we will talk the matter over."

Here the train boy came along and Rodney bought a copy of Puck, while the agent resumed the perusal of a copy of a magazine. For an hour the cars ran smoothly. Then there was a sudden shock causing all the passengers to start to their feet.

"We're off the track!" shouted an excitable person in front of Rodney.

The instinct of self preservation is perhaps stronger than any other. Rodney and his seat mate both jumped to their feet and hurried to the door of the car, not knowing what was in store for them.

But fortunately the train had not been going rapidly. It was approaching a station and was "slowing up." So, though it had really run off the track, there was not likely to be any injury to the passengers.

"We are safe," said Adin Woods. "The only harm done is the delay. I hope that won't be long. Suppose we go back to our seat." They returned to the seat which they had jointly occupied.

Then Rodney made an alarming discovery. "My casket!" he exclaimed. "Where is it?"

"What did you do with it?"

"Left it on the seat."

"It may have fallen to the floor."

Rodney searched for it in feverish excitement, but his search was vain. THE CASKET HAD DISAPPEARED!

CHAPTER IV.

IN PURSUIT OF A THIEF.

"Were the contents of the casket valuable?" asked the land agent.

"Yes; it contained my mother's jewels, all the more valuable because she is dead," replied Rodney.

"Were they of much intrinsic worth?"

"They must be worth several hundred dollars at least."

"Then they must be found," said Adin Woods energetically. "They have evidently been taken by some passenger during the five minutes we were away from our seat."

"Were you inquiring about the casket?" asked a lady sitting opposite.

"Yes, madam. Can you give any information about it?"

"Just after you left your seat the man that sat behind you rose and reaching over for it went to the rear end of the car and got out."

"I wish you had stopped him, madam."

"He was so cool about it that I thought he might be a friend of the young gentleman."

"I didn't know him. He must have been a thief."

"What was his appearance, madam?" asked the lot agent.

"He was a thin, dark complexioned man, with side whiskers coming half way down his cheeks."

"And you say he got out of the rear end of the car?"

"Yes, sir."

"He won't get on the train again," said the agent turning to Rodney. "He thinks the casket valuable enough to pay him for the interruption of his journey."

"What shall I do then?" asked Rodney, feeling helpless and at a loss which way to turn.

"Follow him," said the agent briefly. "He will probably stop over in the village a day and resume his journey tomorrow."

"Even if I found him I am afraid I shouldn't know how to deal with him."

"Then I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll stop over with you and help you make it hot for him. I've had a spite against thieves ever since I had a valuable overcoat stolen in one of my journeys."

"I shall feel very much obliged to you, Mr. Woods, but won't it interfere with your business?"

"Not materially. If we succeed in overhauling the rascal I shall feel sufficiently repaid for the small interruption. But come on, we can't afford to linger here while he is carrying off the plunder."

"I don't know how I can repay you, Mr. Woods," said Rodney gratefully.

"You can buy a lot of me when you get rich enough."

"I will certainly do so, though I am afraid it will be a long time first."

"You don't know what good fortune may be in store for you. Did you notice, madam, in which direction the thief went?"

"Yes, I was looking out of the window. He went over the road to the left."

"That leads to the village. You will see, Mr. Ropes, that I was right about his plans."

"Don't call me Mr. Ropes. Call me Rodney."

"I will. It don't seem natural to dub a boy Mr. Now, Rodney, follow me."

The two passengers set out on the road that led to the village. They could see the latter easily, for it was not more than a mile away.

"He will be surprised to think we have 'struck his trail' so quick," said the agent.

"Where shall we go first?"

"To the hotel if there is one."

"The village seems small."

"Yes, there are only a few hundred inhabitant probably. It is not a place where a traveler would be likely to interrupt his journey unless he had a special object in doing so, like our dishonest friend. However, I think we shall be able to balk his little game."

Ten minutes' walk brought them to the village. Looking about they saw a small hotel just across the way from a neat white chapel.

"Follow me," said the agent.

They went into the public room in which there was a small office.

The book of arrivals was open, and Adin Woods went forward and examined it. Silently he pointed to a name evidently just written, for the ink was scarcely dry. This was the name: Louis Wheeler, Philadelphia.

"This may or may not be his real name," said Mr. Woods in a low voice.

"Do you wish to register, gentlemen?" asked the clerk.

"We will take dinner, and if we decide to stay will register later. By the way, I recognize this name, but it may not be the man I suppose."

"Yes, the gentleman just registered."

"Would you mind describing him?"

"He was a tall, dark man as near as I can remember."

"And he carried a small casket in his hand?"

"Yes, and a gripsack."

"Oh yes," said the agent his face lighting up with satisfaction. "It is the man I mean—where is he now?"

"In his room."

"Did he say how long he intended to stay?"

"No, sir. He said nothing about his plans."

"Did he seem specially careful about the casket?"

"Yes, sir. He carried that in his hands, but let the servant carry up the gripsack."

"My friend," said the agent in an impressive tone, "I am going to surprise you."

The country clerk looked all curiosity.

"Is it about Mr. Wheeler?" he asked.

"Yes, the man is a thief. He stole the casket, which contains valuable jewelry, from my young friend here. We are here to demand a