and accepted the position
without a murmur.

This done everybody interested sat down to await the result of the
independent investigations of each expert, Garry receiving the reports
in sealed envelopes and locking them in the official safe, to be opened
in full committee at its next monthly meeting, when a final report, with
recommendations as to liability and costs, would be drawn up; the same,
when adopted by a majority of the Council the following week, to be
binding.

It was during this suspense--it happened really on the morning
succeeding the one on which Garry had opened the official
envelopes--that an envelope of quite a different character was laid on
Jack's table by the lady with the adjustable hair, who invariably made
herself acquainted with as much of that young gentleman's mail as could
be gathered from square envelopes sealed in violet wax, or bearing
family crests in low relief, or stamped with monograms in light blue
giving out delicate perfumes, each one of which that lady sniffed
with great satisfaction; to say nothing of business addresses and
postal-cards,--the latter being readable, and, therefore, her delight.

This envelope, however, was different from any she had ever fumbled,
sniffed at, or pondered over. It was not only of unusual size, but it
bore in the upper left-hand corner in bold black letters the words:

ARTHUR BREEN & COMPANY, BANKERS.

It was this last word which set the good woman to thinking. Epistles
from banks were not common,--never found at all, in fact, among the
letters of her boarders.

Jack was even more astonished.

"Call at the office," the letter ran, "the first time you are in New
York,--the sooner the better. I have some information regarding the ore
properties that may interest you."

As the young fellow had not heard from his uncle in many moons, the
surprise was all the greater. Nor, if the truth be known, had he laid
eyes on that gentleman since he left the shelter of his home, except at
Corinne's wedding,--and then only across the church, and again in
the street, when his uncle stopped and shook his hand in a rather
perfunctory way, complimenting him on his bravery in rescuing
MacFarlane, an account of which he had seen in the newspapers, and
ending by hoping that his new life would "drop some shekels into his
clothes." Mrs. Breen, on the contrary, while she had had no opportunity
of expressing her mental attitude toward the exile, never having seen
hi