"Your card, sir."

"I haven't any. My name will do."

The official hesitated, and glanced at the little man's seedy garb and
countryfied air. But something in the angry glance of the shrewd
eye made him fear he had made a mistake. He opened a small door and
disappeared.

In a moment the door burst open to allow egress to a big, red-bearded
man in his shirtsleeves, who glanced around briefly and then rushed at
Uncle John and shook both his hands cordially.

"My dear Mr. Merrick!" he exclaimed, "I'm delighted and honored to see
you here. Come to my room at once. A great surprise and pleasure, sir!
Thomas, I'm engaged!"

This last was directed at the head of the amazed porter, who, as the
door slammed in his face, nodded solemnly and remarked:

"Fooled ag'in, and I might 'a' known it. Drat these 'ere billionaires!
Why don't they dress like decent people?"

Uncle John had been advised by Patsy where to go for a good cheap
luncheon; but he did not heed her admonition. Instead, he rode in a
carriage beside the banker to a splendid club, where he was served
with the finest dishes the chef could provide on short notice.
Moreover, Mr. Marvin introduced him to several substantial gentlemen
as "Mr. John Merrick, of Portland"; and each one bowed profoundly and
declared he was "highly honored."

Yet Uncle John seemed in no way elated by this reception. He retained
his simple manner, although his face was more grave than Patsy had
often seen it; and he talked with easy familiarity of preferred stocks
and amalgamated interests and invested, securities and many other
queer things that the banker seemed to understand fully and to listen
to with respectful deference.

Then they returned to the bank for another long session together, and
there was quite an eager bustle among the clerks as they stretched
their necks to get a glimpse of Mr. Marvin's companion.

"It's John Merrick" passed from mouth to mouth, and the uniformed
official strutted from one window to another, saying:

"I showed him in myself. And he came into the bank as quiet like as
anyone else would."

But he didn't go away quietly, you may be sure. Mr. Marvin and Mr.
Isham both escorted their famous client to the door, where the Marvin
carriage had been ordered to be in readiness for Mr. Merrick's
service.

But Uncle John waived it aside disdainfully.

"I'll walk," he said. "There are some other errands to attend to."

So they shook his hand and reminded