"These ashes were all in the tray, I think," Trant contented himself with answering. "They scattered when I opened the windows."
Joslyn lifted a stiletto letter-opener from the desk and tried to separate, so as to read, the carbonized ashes left in the tray. They fell into a thousand pieces; and as he gave up the hopeless attempt to decipher the writing on them, suddenly the young assistant bent before the couch, slipped his hand under the body, and drew out a crumpled paper. It was a recently canceled note for twenty thousand dollars drawn on the University regularly and signed by Dr. Lawrie, as treasurer. But as the young psychologist started to study it more closely, President Joslyn's hand closed over it and took it from Trant's grasp. The president himself merely glanced at it; then, with whitening face, folded it carefully and put it in his pocket.
"What is the matter, Joslyn?" Dr. Reiland started up.
"A note," the president answered shortly. He took a turn or two nervously up and down the room, paused and stared down at the face of the man upon the couch; then turned almost pityingly to the old professor.
"Reiland," he said compassionately, "I must tell you that this shocking affair is not the surprise to me that it seems to have been to you. I have known for two weeks, and Branower has known for nearly as long—for I took him into my confidence—that there were irregularities in the treasurer's office. I questioned Lawrie about it when I first stumbled upon the
