reasonable attached to his father,
was a little surprised to see the young man so moved. He drew the door
gently after him, and came out upon the steps.

'I'm afraid, Mr. John,' he murmured sympathetically, 'that it's
practically all over, sir. The poor gentleman's quite unconscious, and
the doctor don't expect him to last till morning.'

Young Mr. Barter's mind was active, and accustomed to rapid movement. He
knew at once that the old servant read the signs of disturbance in
his face and manner, and how far he misread them. So, to insure the
misreading, he took out his handkerchief, and groaned at this melancholy
intelligence.

'I----,' began Bommaney, stammering and speaking a little thickly, 'I
didn't come to ask about your father.' Young Barter's heart at
this, though he was perfectly prepared for it, began to beat like a
sledgehammer. 'I've had a dreadful loss. I have called nowhere but at
your office since I left my own, and I have lost eight thousand pounds.
I am convinced that I must have left it there.'

'I can't think so, Mr. Bommaney,' said Barter, with a face of
innocence.' We can go back together, if you like, and look for it.'
Bommaney's driver lingered for him; the other cabman was already
jingling leisurely down the street.

'Johnson,' said young Barter, addressing the domestic, 'you hear what
Mr. Bommaney says. This is a matter of the most urgent importance, and
must be looked into at once. Tell my mother that I have been home, and
that I have been called suddenly back on urgent business.' Bommaney
stood in a kind of stupid trance, and the young man, taking him by the
arm, had some ado to secure his attention. 'Come! Come, sir,' he said;
'we will look into this at once. You must not remain in suspense about
such a matter.'

They rustled together through the straw which had been laid down upon
the roadway, and had been scattered by the feet of passers-by upon the
pavement, and, mounting the cab, drove in a ghastly silence for a score
of yards, and then, with a clatter which made conversation difficult,
Bommaney, rousing himself at intervals, shouted his certainty that
the notes would prove to have been left at Barter's chambers. Barter,
growing curiously inured to the circumstances of the case, shouted back
that he dared to say they would be; that it was very likely; that he
really did not see where else Mr. Bommaney could possibly have left
them, furtively pressing the notes against his breast me