ion.

"A man knocked me down the steps," Matt explained. "I hope the door
isn't ruined."

"Hardly, but there's a hole in it."

"The wire has broken from under the molding, that is all," said the
boy. "Let me see if I can't fix it."

He brought out his penknife, and loosened part of the molding. Then
drawing the wire back into place, he tacked the molding fast again;
and the door was as good as before.

But all this had taken time, and Matt knew it would now be useless to
attempt to follow Paul Carden. He looked around the corner, and seeing
nothing of the fellow, retraced his steps to Randolph Fenton's
establishment.

"Where in the world have you been so long?" demanded Mr. Fenton, as
Matt entered the private apartment. "Here I have been waiting an hour
for you to deliver a message to Ulmer & Grant. I hire you to be on
hand when wanted, Lincoln; not to loaf your time away."

"I was not loafing my time away, Mr. Fenton," returned Matt calmly.
"There was a private matter I had to attend to, and----"

"You have no business to attend to private matters during office
hours!" roared Randolph Fenton wrathfully. "You will mind my business
and nothing else."

"But this could not wait. There was a man----"

"I do not care for your explanations, young man. Too much time has
already been wasted. Take this message to Ulmer & Grant's, and bring a
reply inside of ten minutes, or consider yourself discharged."

And with his face full of wrath and sourness, Randolph Fenton thrust a
sealed envelope into Matt's hand.

An angry reply arose to the boy's lips. But he checked it, and without
a word left the office and hurried away on his errand.

"I trust I make a satisfactory arrangement with Andrew Dilks," said
Matt to himself. "It is growing harder and harder every day to get
along with Mr. Fenton. Every time he talks he acts as if he wanted to
snap somebody's head off. Poor Miss Bartlett at her desk looked
half-scared to death."

Arriving at the offices of Ulmer & Grant, Matt found that Mr. Ulmer
had gone to Boston. Mr. Grant was busy, but would give him an answer
in a few minutes.

Matt sat down, wondering what Mr. Fenton would say about the delay.
Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed. At last Mr. Grant was at
liberty, but it was exactly half an hour before Matt managed to gain a
reply to the message he carried.

When Matt got back to Randolph Fenton's office he found the broker in
his private apartment alone, and al