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put a finger to his lips, and with another hand warned Lanky.

"Why, I tell you it's all right, Frank; I've guessed that puzzle," said the other; but Frank drew him hastily aside.

Mr. Baxter still sat there upon the floor, and seemed to be so utterly lost in contemplation of the recovered pocketbook that he had apparently heard not a word of what Lanky said.

"It's sure him, Frank, his boy Willie. I used to know him about four years ago. He was a tall boy then, a young man I guess, and looked sickly. When he went off people around here thought he was with his grandfather up-state. Now you heard what he said. He believed the boy stole that pocketbook. They had a squabble, and Willie hit it for the tramps' paradise. I reckon the old man will be mighty glad to get him back again."

"Keep, still, can't you, Lanky?" urged Frank;