"Yes, and the old coat, too. They're both gone. If there were any papers
in the pocket of that old coat they're gone, Mr. Bunker."

"But who took them?" asked the real estate man, much worried.

"Why, it must have been that old tramp lumberman," answered the clerk.
"Don't you remember?"

"What tramp lumberman?" asked Mr. Bunker.

"It was this way," said Mr. Donlin. "After you went out to the lumber pile
with Mr. Johnson--and I saw you had on the old coat--you came back in here
and hung it up behind the door."

"And the valuable papers were in the pocket," said Mr. Bunker. "I remember
that."

"Well, perhaps they were," admitted the clerk. "Anyhow, you hung the
ragged coat behind the door. And just before you went home for the night
an old tramp came in. Don't you remember? He was red-haired."

"Yes, I remember that," said the children's father.

"Well, this tramp said he used to be a lumberman, but he got sick and had
to go to the hospital, and since coming out he couldn't find any work to
do. He said he was in need of a coat, and you called to me to give him
your old one, as you were going to get another. Do you remember that?"

"Oh, yes! I certainly do!" cried Mr. Bunker. "I'd forgotten all about the