"Will you go up-stairs at once, Mr. Mason?" asked the clerk.

"Yes, sir."

Mark followed the hall boy to a room on the third floor.

"Will dinner be ready soon?" he asked.

"It is on the table now, sir."

Mark washed his hands and face, combed his hair, and went down-stairs.
He had but one flight to descend, the dining-room being on the second
floor.

Even if the dinner had been an indifferent one Mark would have
appreciated it, for he was very hungry. When he had satisfied his
appetite he had a chance to look around.

What was his surprise when a little farther down the table, on the same
side, he recognized his acquaintance of the smoking car, Mr. Buffington!

CHAPTER XVII.

MARK MAKES A CALL ON EUCLID AVENUE.

Mark was not altogether pleased to find that he had not got rid of the
railroad adventurer. He recognized him as a dangerous and unprincipled
man.

As long as Mark had the diamond pin in his possession, the vicinity of
such a fellow meant peril. He decided that he had better lose no time in
delivering the pin to Mrs. Loring. He had told Florence that he would
call the next day, but really there was no reason why he should not
deliver it at once.

About three o'clock he called a cab and directed the driver to drive to
No. 1001-1/2 Euclid Avenue. The distance was somewhat more than a mile,
and in fifteen minutes he found himself at his destination.

"Shall I wait for you?" asked the hackman.

"No; I may be in the house some time."

He paid for the cab and rang the doorbell.

"Is Mrs. Loring at home?" asked Mark of the servant who answered the
bell.

"Yes, sir, but I don't know if she will see you?"

"Tell her that I come from Mr. Swan of New York."

"She will see you," said the servant returning after a short absence.

Mark was ushered into the reception room, and in a few minutes a
pleasant-looking woman of middle age entered. She seemed surprised when
her glance rested upon Mark.

"Surely you are not Mr. Swan's messenger?" she said.

"Yes, madam."

"And you--have brought the pin?"

"Here it is," said Mark, producing it from his pocket.

Mrs. Loring eagerly opened the casket and uttered an exclamation of
delight.

"It is beautiful--just what I wanted," she said.

"Mr. Swan said he thought he knew your taste."

"Did he mention the price?"

"A thousand dollars. Here is the bill."

"I shall not dispute the price, for I have perfect confidence in Mr.
Swan. But--isn't