aller than himself standing close at hand and laughing
heartily.

Instead of getting angry, Hal laughed in return. Then he picked up some
snow, made it into a hard ball, and let fly.

The snow-ball took the other boy in the chest, and in his effort to
dodge he went over head first into a drift near the gutter. Hal burst
out laughing, and then ran back and helped the stranger up.

"Say, wot did yer do dat fer?" demanded the other boy, as soon as he was
once more on his feet.

"Tit for tat, you know," returned Hal. "I guess you're not hurt, are
you?"

The stranger stared at Hal. He had never met with such a kindly answer
before.

"Hurt! o' course I ain't hurt," he returned, slowly.

"You threw at me first, didn't you?"

"Wot if I did?"

"Nothing, only that's why I threw back."

The stranger stared at Hal for a moment.

"Who are you?" he asked, abruptly.

"My name is Hal Carson. What's yours?"

"Jack McCabe."

Hal held out his hand.

"I'm glad to know you. I just came to New York, and I only know one
person here."

"Git out! is dat so?" Jack McCabe shook hands rather gingerly. "Den yer
ain't one o' der boys, is yer?"

"What boys?"

"Der fellers around town."

"Hardly."

"Got work here?"

"I expect to get work from a man in Wall Street."

"Goin' ter be a broker, hey?" grinned Jack.

"Here, get to work there, you lazy dog!" shouted a man from the inside
of a near-by store, and Jack dropped his conversation and began to clean
off the sidewalk with vigor.

Hal walked on. He did not know under what exciting circumstances he was
to meet Jack McCabe again.

Promptly at ten o'clock Hal presented himself at the number given him on
Wall Street. The sign over the door read Sumner, Allen & Co., Brokers.

He opened the door and entered. There was a small place in the front
partitioned from the rear office by a counter and a brass grating.

A man sat writing at a desk in the rear. He glanced at Hal, and seeing
it was only a boy, went on with his work.

Five minutes passed. Then the man swung around leisurely, got down from
his stool, and came forward.

As soon as Hal caught sight of the man's face he was astonished.

It was Hardwick, the fellow whose conversation he had overheard on the
ferry boat the evening before.

CHAPTER III.

A SERIOUS CHARGE.

"What do you want?" asked Hardwick abruptly.

"Is Mr. Sumner in?" returned Hal.

"No."

"Then I'll wait till he comes."

Hardwi