"I ain't Mr. Trotter. I'm Tom."

"Mr. Trotter," said the jeweler, smiling, for he had a sense of humor,
"I have a letter here which I wish you to take to the address named."

"And to walk, sir."

"No; I will give you ten cents for car fare, and when you return and
make your report you shall be paid for doing the errand."

"All right, governor."

Tom started up town, and in due time reached the house on Forty-Seventh
Street.

He rang the bell, and the door was opened by the hall boy already
referred to.

"Is Mr. Schuyler at home?" asked Tom. "I've got a letter for him."

Mr. Schuyler, who was anxiously awaiting Mark's return, came out of a
room to the left of the hall. When he saw Tom he looked disappointed.

"I was expecting a boy from Mr. Swan's jewelry store."

"That's where I come from."

"Did you bring the rings?" asked Schuyler eagerly.

"I don't know nothin' about no rings," answered Tom. "I've brought you a
letter."

"Give it to me quick."

He opened the letter, and this is what he read with contracted brow.

"MR. HAMILTON SCHUYLER:

"When I called here this morning I recognized you as the young man
who stole an old lady's pocketbook in a Fifth Avenue stage not long
since. Of course I knew that this was another scheme of yours to
get hold of money that did not belong to you. If you had been all
right I would myself have brought back the real diamond rings which
your aunt wished to buy. Tell her not to put off her journey to
Buffalo, as Mr. Swan has made up his mind not to send them.

"Yours as ever,
"A. D. T. 79."

"Then it was the telegraph boy, after all!" ejaculated Schuyler in a
rage. "I only wish I had known it. Are you a friend of--the telegraph
boy?"

"Am I a friend of Mark Mason? I should smile."

"Step in a minute, then!" said Schuyler, with an assumed friendliness.

As the unsuspecting Tom stepped inside the hall, the young man began to
shower blows on his shoulders with a cane that he snatched from the hat
rack.

Tom was for a minute dazed. Then his wits returned to him. He lowered
his head and butted Schuyler in the stomach with such force that the
latter fell over backwards with an ejaculation of pain.

Then Tom darted through the open door, but paused on the steps to say,
"With the compliments of Tom Trotter."

Schuyler picked himself up, uttering execrations, and looked for the
boy, but he was gone!