Mr. Morgan H.
Rogers and at least conceived the idea of pretending that he had
a client who--without disclosing his name for the time being--
desired to create a trust for the benefit of a charity in which
the railroad magnate was much interested. With this excuse he
found no difficulty in securing an interview and making an agreeable
impression. The next step was more difficult.

Finally, having learned through a clerk in the banker's office with
whom he had cultivated an acquaintance that Mr. Morgan H. Rogers
was going to Boston at a certain hour that very afternoon, he donned
his best funeral suit and boarded the same train himself. As he
passed through the drawing-room car he bowed to the great man, who
returned his greeting with the shortness characteristic of him,
and passed on to the smoker, where he ensconced himself in a chair
near the door, depositing on the seat next to him a pile of magazines
and his coat. Half an hour passed and the car filled up, save for
the seat next the young lawyer. Presently the bulky form of Morgan
H. Rogers filled the door-way. He already had a black unlit cigar
in his mouth and he scanned the rows of seats with ill-concealed
disappointment. Then his eye caught the one occupied by our friend's
coat.

"Let me have this seat!" said he abruptly.

"Oh, how are you, Mr. Rogers!" exclaimed the young lawyer.
"Certainly! Let me give you a light."

"Your name's Baldwin, isn't it?" inquired the banker as he took up
a magazine. "Saw you about that trust matter last week, didn't I?"

"Yes," answered Baldwin. "Nothing has occurred in connection with
it since then."

And he returned to his paper without paying any further attention
to his companion. At Bridgeport a telegraph boy rushed into the
car and yelled: "Baldwin! Mr. Baldwin!"

Mr. Baldwin held out his hand, in which lay half a dollar, and
without much apparent interest opened the envelope and scanned its
contents.

"H'm!" he remarked, half inwardly, and thrust the paper into his
pocket.

At New Haven another boy boarded the train, calling anxiously for
Everitt P. Baldwin--this time there were two telegrams; and just
as the train pulled out a third arrived.

Mr. Baldwin read them all with the keenest interest and could hardly
conceal an exclamation of satisfaction; but the magnate gave no
sign. At New London there was another flurry and, in spite of
himself, Mr. Baldwin slapped his knee and muttered: "Good en