s old gentleman, who had been deceived many
times in his life, much imposed upon, and therefore very cautious of
whom he trusted. Still, Bertie Rivers' face was truthful and frank
enough to satisfy anybody as he replied that he did not know in the
least to whom the bag belonged; "but I was going to my luncheon, sir,
and I ran against this gentleman; my hat got knocked off, and when I
stooped to pick it up I saw the bag. I felt sure the gentleman dropped
it, and I called; but he had driven off, so I just hailed another
hansom, and told the driver to follow the one just started. He said, 'I
saw it all,' and drove as quick as he could, and--that's all, sir."

"No, no, there's something more; you must tell me all about it
presently," and Mr. Murray pushed Bertie before him into a magnificent
library. "You sit there for ten minutes, while I see to this business,"
and he turned to the clerk, who had followed him. "Give me the papers,
and while I sign them thank that lad. He has done you a good turn
to-day."

The clerk thanked Bertie cordially, and at length Mr. Murray stood up,
thrust the papers into the bag, and with a curious glance, which seemed
to say plainly, "I'll see you later on about this," dismissed the man by
a wave of his hand, then he turned to Bertie, and caught him glancing at
the clock with much uneasiness.

"Now then, boy, you have done me a very great service to-day; what can I
do for you in return?"

Bertie flushed, hung his head, and then looked up resolutely. "If you
would be so kind as to pay the cabman," he stammered. "I forgot when I
engaged him that I had spent nearly all my pocket-money, and it takes
three days to get any from the savings' bank, and I--I couldn't ask
Uncle Gregory."

"Of course not; besides, the cab came here on _my_ business: it's _my_
duty to pay him, else I would not do it. Here, run out and give him
this," and Mr. Murray handed him a sovereign; "then come back to me."

"Please, sir, will you excuse me?" Bertie said earnestly. "I am so
afraid to be late."

"It can't be helped this time, Bertie. You must have something to eat,
and I'm going into the City presently, and will call and explain matters
to your uncle; but you must go in first and tell your own story, because
I don't want to deprive you of his praise when he hears what a shrewd,
honest boy you've been. Come on, and have luncheon with me, and tell me
why you said you preferred returning to the office to going for