as they
moved toward the elevator again.

"Staying with you, eh?" Hitchin repeated, with a careful survey of
David's well-worn storm-coat; and added, with characteristic bluntness:
"Working for you, Fry?"

"My guest," Anthony said annoyedly; and then the car came down and the
door opened and they left Mr. Hitchin, but the boy cocked an eye at
Anthony and asked flatly:

"What was the idea of that--staying with you? I'm not staying with you."

"You may decide to stay for a little."

"Not me," said David.

"We shall see," Anthony chuckled. "This is our floor."

Wilkins--the priceless, faultless Wilkins who had been with Anthony for
sixteen years--opened the door and, even though he were Wilkins, started
a trifle at the sight of David and his cap. He flushed for the start, to
be sure, as his master moved into the big living-room with his superb
dignity, but when he had taken cap and coat and examined the suit
beneath, Wilkins shook his head mentally. One shock had come that
evening in the knowledge that Johnson Boller, whom Wilkins did not
approve, was to be with them--but this young ruffian!

"Make yourself at home, David," Anthony smiled. "We'll shed our coats
and find our smoking jackets."

Johnson Boller with him, he moved to the corner bedroom, to face his old
friend with:

"Well, what do you think of him?"

"He's a bad egg," Johnson Boller said readily. "I don't like his eye and
the way he swaggers would get him six months in any court in town. Say
whatever it is the devilish impulse prompts you to say and then fire him
before he pinches the silver."

"Bosh!" Anthony said testily. "The boy's awed and self-conscious--the
swagger is assumed to cover that, of course. I mean what, in your
decidedly inferior judgment, is his fitness as a subject for experiment?
Will he know opportunity when she is first set before him or will it be
necessary to present her repeatedly?"

Johnson Boller laughed harshly and stared hard at his old friend. Under
certain conditions, even the empty apartment on Riverside Drive might
not be so bad.

"Say!" he demanded. "Are you going to keep that little rat here and
argue with him till he admits that he recognizes whatever opportunity
you're going to thrust at him?"

"Essentially that."

"Well, if it's an opportunity to earn an honest living, he'll never see
it--and if the chatter takes more than an hour I'm going home!" Johnson
Boller snapped. "I'd have stayed there if I'd