red from this that philanthropy, not business
interest, was at the bottom of young Kendrick's quest and his surprise
vanished. The young man was known as kind-hearted and generous; he was
undoubtedly merely carrying out a careless impulse, though he certainly
seemed much in earnest in the doing of it.

"You might take Carson, assistant buyer for the dress-goods department,
with you," suggested Henderson after a little consideration. "He could
probably give you a day just now. Alger, his head, is back from London
this week. Carson's a bright man--in line for promotion. He'll put his
finger on the trouble without hesitation--if it lies in the lack of
business experience, buying and selling, as you say. I'll send for him."

In two minutes Richard Kendrick and Alfred Carson were face to face,
and an appointment had been made for the following day. Richard took
a liking to the assistant buyer on the spot. He felt as if he were
selecting a competent physician for his friend, and was glad to send
him a man whose personality was both prepossessing and inspiring of
confidence.

As for Carson, it was an interesting experience for him, too. He
thoroughly enjoyed the seventy-mile drive at the side of the young
millionaire, who sent his powerful car flying over the frozen roads at a
pace which made his passenger's face sting. Carson was more accustomed
to travel in subways and sleeping-cars than by long motor drives, and by
the time Eastman was reached he was glad that the return drive would be
preceded by a hot luncheon.

"We won't go past the store," Richard explained, making a detour from
the main street of the town, regardless of the fact that he forsook a
good road for a poor one. "I don't want him to see me to-day."

He pressed upon his guest the best that the hotel afforded, then sent
him to the corner store with instructions to let nothing escape his
attention. "Though I don't need to tell you that," he added with a
laugh. "You'll see more in a minute than I should in a month."

Then he lighted a cigar--from his own case this time, though he strolled
in to see his friend the druggist when he had finished it, and bought of
him various other sundries. He did not venture to mention Benson to-day,
but the druggist did. Evidently Benson's imminent failure was the talk
of the town, and the regret, as well, of those who were not his rivals.

"Man can't succeed at a thing he picks up so late, and when he'd rather
do something