"To my mother."

"A likely story that a country minister's wife should own such
valuable pearls," said Mrs. Simpson, in a tone of sarcasm.

"How do you account for it?" asked the clerk.

"They were given my mother years since, by a rich lady who was a
good friend of hers. She has never had occasion to wear them."

Mrs. Simpson smiled significantly.

"The boy has learned his story," she said. "I did not give you
credit for such an imagination, John Cavanaugh."

"My name is Grant Thornton, madam," said our hero, gravely.

Five minutes later two men entered the store. One was a policeman,
the other the head of the firm. When Grant's eye fell on the
policeman he felt nervous, but when he glanced at the gentleman his
face lighted up with pleasure.

"Why, it's Mr. Clifton," he said.

"Grant Thornton," said the jeweler, in surprise. "Why, I thought--"

"You will do me justice, Mr. Clifton," said Grant, and thereupon he
related the circumstances already known to the reader.

When Mrs. Simpson found that the boy whom she had selected as an