the bank director.

"How did you lose it?" demanded Lawry.

"That drop came down and let my coat into the lake; but I don't see
how my pocketbook could get out of the coat."

"I don't believe the money was in the pocket," added the ferryman.

"Yes, it was," persisted Mr. Randall.

"I don't see how it could fall out of the pocket," said John Wilford.

"Nor I; but the money is gone," answered the bank director, with a
vacant stare. "I'm ruined!"

"Well, I can't help it. I've done all I could for you. I tried to
save it; and if I get the rheumatism for a month or two, it will be a
bad job for me."

"Wasn't the pocketbook in the pocket when you picked up the coat?"
asked Mr. Randall, walking up to the ferryman.

"How should I know?" replied John Wilford. "I gave you the coat just
as I found it."

"I don't believe the pocketbook would sink," added the director.
"There was nothing but paper in it."

"Of course it wouldn't sink, then," interposed the owner of the