in his intense yearning for
somebody who seemed to care for him, if ever so little.

Five minutes later Pringle came back, looking shining and refreshed. As
he entered he gave Tom an inquiring look, and jerked his head sidewise
toward the inner office.

Tom was not too stupid to understand the dumb language of that look and
gesture.

"No," he replied. "He went out five minutes ago, and said that very
likely he wouldn't be back."

"And that you were to take any letters home after office hours?"

"Yes; how did you know?"

"How did I know!" said the clerk with a chuckle; "because I've been
caught before. That means that he'll be sure to look in before very
long to see whether we are busy. You'd better read hard, sir, and don't
look up when he comes. Pst! 'ware hawk!"

He slipped into the little office, and his stool made a scraping noise,
while, almost before Tom had settled down to his work, the handle of the
outer door turned and his uncle bustled in.

"Here, did I leave my umbrella?" he said sharply.

"I did not see it, uncle--sir," replied Tom, jumping from his stool.

"Keep your place, sir, and go on with your work. Don't be so fond of
seizing any excuse to get away from your books. Humph, yes," he
muttered, as he reached into his room and took up the ivory-handled
article from where it stood.

The next moment he was at the door of the clerk's office.

"By the way, Pringle, you had better go and have that deed stamped this
afternoon if you get it done in time."

"Yes, sir," came back sharply, and the lawyer frowned, turned round, and
went out once more.

The outer door had not closed a minute before the inner one opened, and
Pringle's head appeared, but with its owner evidently on the alert, and
ready to snatch it back again.

"Good-bye! Bless you!" he said aloud. "Pray take care of yourself,
sir. You can bob back again if you like, but I shan't be out getting
the deed stamped, because, as you jolly well know, it won't be done
before this time to-morrow."

Pringle looked at Tom, smiled, and nodded.

"You won't tell him what I said, Mr Tom, I know. But I say, don't you
leave your stool. You take my advice. Don't you give him a chance to
row you again, because I can see how it hurts you."

Tom's lip quivered as he looked wistfully at the clerk.

"It's all right, sir. You just do what's c'rect, and you needn't mind
anything. I ain't much account, but I do know that. I wouldn't sta