the firm?"

"I don't know. In New York we are not as well posted, or as curious,
concerning our friends' private affairs as your townspeople seem to be."

"I guess that's so. I imagine New Yorkers are too busy gettin' it
themselves to bother whether their neighbors have got it or not. Well,"
he went on, rising, "I guess I've kept you young folks from your work
or--or play, or whatever you was going to do, long enough for this once.
I think I'll go out for a spell. I've got an errand or two I want to do.
What time do you have dinner?"

"We lunch at half past one," answered Caroline.

"We dine at seven."

"Oh, yes, yes! I keep forgettin' that supper's dinner. Well, I presume
likely I'll be back for luncheon. If I ain't, don't wait for me. I'll be
home afore supper--there I go again!--afore dinner, anyhow. Good-by."

Five minutes later he was at the street corner, inquiring of a policeman
"the handiest way to get to Pine Street." Following the directions
given, he boarded a train at the nearest subway station, emerged at Wall
Street, inquired once more, located the street he was looking for, and,
consulting a card which he took from a big stained leather pocket-book,
walked on, peering at the numbers of the buildings he passed.

The offices of Sylvester, Kuhn, and Graves, were on the sixteenth floor
of a new and gorgeously appointed sky-scraper. When Captain Elisha
entered the firm's reception room, he was accosted by a wide-awake and
extremely self-possessed office boy.

"Who'd you want to see?" asked the boy, briskly.

The captain removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his
handkerchief.

"Hold on a jiffy, Sonny," he panted. "Just give me a minute to sort of
get myself together, as you might say. I rode up in one of those express
elevators of yours, and I kind of feel as if my boots had got tangled up
with my necktie. When that elevator feller cast off from the cellar, I
begun to shut up like a spyglass. Whew! Say, Son, is Mr. Graves in?"

"No," replied the boy, grinning.

"Hum! Still in the sick bay, is he--hey?"

"He's to home. Got a cold."

"Yup. It's too bad. Mr.--er--Sylvester, is he in?"

"Naw, he ain't. And Mr. Kuhn's busy. Won't one of the clerks do? What do
you want to see the firm about?"

"Well, Son, I had reasons of my own. However, I guess I won't disturb
Mr. Kuhn, if he's busy's you say. Here! you tell him, or Mr. Sylvester
when he comes, that Cap'n Warren, Cap'n Elisha Warren of Sou