at the names. He remembered overhearing some talk one day in which his
uncle had taken part. Only a few days before he had sent a bundle of
Mukton certificates to the transfer office of the company.

Then a chill struck him full in the chest and he shivered to his
finger-tips. Had Ruth heard?--and if she had heard, would she
understand? In his talk he had given her his true self--his standards
of honor--his beliefs in what was true and worth having. When she knew
all--and she must know--would she look upon him as a fraud? That his
uncle had been accused of a shrewd scoop in the Street did not make his
clerk a thief, but would she see the difference?

All these thoughts surged through his mind as he stood looking into
her eyes, her hand in his while he made his adieux. He had determined,
before Morris fired the bomb which shattered his hopes, to ask if he
might see her again, and where, and if there could be found no place
fitting and proper, she being motherless and Miss Felicia but a
chaperon, to write her a note inviting her to walk up through the Park
with him, and so on into the open where she really belonged. All this
was given up now. The best thing for him was to take his leave as
quietly as possible, without committing her to anything--anything which
he felt sure she would repudiate as soon as she learned--if she did not
know already--how undesirable an acquaintance John Breen, of Breen &
Co., was, etc.

As to his uncle's share in the miserable transaction, there was but one
thing to do--to find out, and from his own lips, if possible, if the
story were true, and if so to tell him exactly what he thought of Breen
& Co. and the business in which they were engaged. Peter's advice was
good, and he wished he could follow it, but here was a matter in which
his honor was concerned. When this side of the matter was presented to
Mr. Grayson he would commend him for his course of action. To think that
his own uncle should be accused of a transaction of this kind--his own
uncle and a Breen! Could anything be more horrible!

So sudden was his departure from the room--just "I must go now; I'm so
grateful to you all for asking me, and I've had such a good--Good-by--"
that Miss Felicia looked after him in astonishment, turning to Peter
with:

"Why, what's the matter with the boy? I wanted him to dine with us. Did
you say anything to him, Peter, to hurt his feelings?"

Peter shook his head. Morris, he knew, was the unco