he could not well afford the time to go
himself to New York. His chief man at the paper mill had failed to
accomplish anything; so it was a great relief when Hiram volunteered his
services. Mr. Burns could not tell why, but he had a singular confidence
that Hiram would bring the matter out right. He was up to see his
confidential clerk off in the stage, which passed through Burnsville
before daylight, and which was to call at the office for its passenger.
From that office a light could be seen glimmering as early as three
o'clock. Hiram, after an hour or two in bed, where he did not close his
eyes, had risen, and taking his valise in his hand, had gone to the
office, and was again deep in the accounts. He would make memorandums
from time to time, and at last wrote a brief note to Mr. Burns, asking
him to send forward by the first mail a full power of attorney. At
length the stage horn was heard. Hiram rose, opened his valise, and
placed his papers within it. The stage wheeled rapidly round the corner,
and drew up at the office door; Hiram extinguished the light, seized his
valise, stepped quietly out, and was in the act of turning the key--he
had a duplicate--when Mr. Burns arrived.

'I thought,' he said, 'I would see you off. You will have a fine day,
and reach New Haven in ample time for the boat.'

'I have left a brief note on your table,' responded Hiram, 'to ask for a
power of attorney. I think it may be important.'

'You shall have it. Good luck to you. Write me how you get along.
Good-by.'

He shook Hiram's hand with an enthusiasm which belonged to his nature.
The latter extended his cold, dry palm to his employer, and said, 'Good
morning, sir,' and got inside. He did not in the least enter into Mr.
Burns's cheerful, sympathizing spirit. If the truth must be told, he had
not the slightest sympathy for him; neither did any desire to extricate
him from this awkward business induce the present adventure. He cared no
more for Mr. Burns than he did for Mr. Joslin. But he did enjoy the idea
of meeting that knave and circumventing him. It was the pleasantest
'duty' he ever had undertaken. On it his whole thoughts were centred.
What did he care whether the day was fair or foul--whether the roads
were good or bad? He longed to get to work at Joslin.

The stage door closed, and the vehicle rolled swiftly away. Mr. Burns
stood a moment looking after it. He had felt the entire absence of
responsive sympathy in his clerk