nexpected moment, helping the plot here and there by a gesture, a
whack, or a pirouette; hobnobbing with Peter or Miss Felicia, and their
friends; listening to Jack's and Ruth's talk, or following them at
a distance, whenever his presence might embarrass either them or the
comedy?

This being agreed upon, we will leave our hero this bright morning--the
one succeeding the row with his uncle--at the door of Peter's bank,
confident that Jack can take care of himself.

And the confidence is not misplaced. Only once did the boy's glance
waver, and that was when his eyes sought the window facing Peter's desk.
Some egg other than Peter's was nesting on the open ledger spread out on
the Receiving Teller's desk--not an ostrich egg of a head at all, but an
evenly parted, well-combed, well-slicked brown wig, covering the careful
pate of one of the other clerks who, in the goodness of his heart, was
filling Peter's place for the day.

Everybody being busy--too busy to answer questions outside of payments
and deposits--Patrick, the porter, must necessarily conduct the
negotiations.

"No, sur; he's not down to-day--" was the ever-watchful Patrick's answer
to Jack's anxious inquiry. "His sister's come from the country and he
takes a day off now and thin when she's here. You'll find him up at his
place in Fifteenth Street, I'm thinkin'."

Jack bit his lip. Here was another complication. Not to find Peter at
the Bank meant a visit to his rooms--on his holiday, too--and when he
doubtless wished to be alone with Miss Felicia. And yet how could he
wait a moment longer? He himself had sent word to the office of Breen
& Co. that he would not be there that day--a thing he had never done
before--nor did he intend to go on the morrow--not until he knew where
he stood. While his uncle had grossly misunderstood him, and, for that
matter, grossly insulted him, he had neither admitted nor denied the
outrage on Gilbert.

When he did--this question had only now begun to loom up--where would
he go and what would he do? There was but little money due him at the
office--and none would come--until the next month's pay--hardly enough,
in any event, to take him back to his Maryland home, even if that refuge
were still open to him. What then would become of him? Peter was, in
fact, his main and only reliance. Peter he must see, and at once.

Not that he wavered or grew faint at heart when he thought of his defeat
the night before. He was only thinki