in persons who had
until that hour been unsuccessful in obtaining the accommodations
desired were not at all particular whether their demands were satisfied
in a handsome office, or under the only roof that can be enjoyed free of
rent.

There came to Mr. Putchett oddly-clothed members of his own profession,
and offered for sale securities whose numbers Mr. Putchett compared with
those on a list of bonds stolen; men who deposited with him small
articles of personal property--principally jewelry--as collaterals on
small loans at short time and usurious rates; men who stood before him
on the sidewalk, caught his eye, summoned him by a slight motion of the
head, and disappeared around the corner, whither Mr. Putchett followed
them only to promptly transact business and hurry back to his
business-stand.

In fact, Mr. Putchett was very busy, and as in his case business
invariably indicated profit, it was not wonderful that his rather
unattractive face lightened and expressed its owner's satisfaction at
the amount of business he was doing. Suddenly, however, there attacked
Mr. Putchett the fate which, in its peculiarity of visiting people in
their happiest hours, has been bemoaned by poets of genuine and doubtful
inspiration, from the days of the sweet singer of Israel unto those of
that sweet singer of Erin, whose recital of experience with young
gazelles illustrates the remorselessness of the fate alluded to.

Plainly speaking, Mr. Putchett went suddenly under a cloud, for during
one of his dashes around the corner after a man who had signaled him,
and at the same time commenced to remove a ring from his finger, a
small, dirty boy handed Mr. Putchett a soiled card, on which was
penciled:

"Bayle is after you, about that diamond."

Despite the fact that Mr. Putchett had not been shaved for some days,
and had apparently neglected the duty of facial ablution for quite as
long a time, he turned pale and looked quickly behind him and across the
street; then muttering "Just my luck!" and a few other words more
desponding than polite in nature, he hurried to the Post-Office, where
he penciled and dispatched a few postal-cards, signed in initials only,
announcing an unexpected and temporary absence. Then, still looking
carefully and often at the faces in sight, he entered a newspaper office
and consulted a railway directory. He seemed in doubt, as he rapidly
turned the leaves; and when he reached the timetable of a certain roa