ank, with
feeling. "If I were willing to steal anything, it would not be a gift
from your dead son."

"I'll trust you, my boy," said the old gentleman quickly. "Your tone
convinces me that you may be relied upon."

"Thank you, sir."

The old gentleman drew a card from his pocket, containing his name and
address, and on the reverse side wrote the name of the friend at whose
office he felt sure the umbrella had been left, with a brief note
directing that it be handed to the bearer.

"All right, sir."

"Stop a moment, my boy. Have you got money to ride?"

"No, sir."

"Here, take this, and go down at once in the next stage. The sooner you
get there the better."

Frank followed directions. He stopped the next stage, and got on board.
As he passed the City-Hall Park, Dick Rafferty espied him. Frank nodded
to him.

"How did he get money enough to ride in a 'bus?" Dick asked himself in
much wonderment. "A few minutes ago he wanted to borrow some money of
me, and now he's spending ten cents for a ride. Maybe he's found a
pocket-book."

Frank kept on his way, and got out at Wall street. He found Mr.
Peckham's office, and on presenting the card, much to his delight, the
umbrella was handed him.

"Mr. Bowen was afraid to trust me with it over night," said Mr. Peckham,
with a smile.

"He thought some visitor might carry it off," said Frank.

"Not unlikely. Umbrellas are considered common property."

Frank hailed another stage, and started on his way up-town. There was no
elevated railway then, and this was the readiest conveyance, as Mr.
Bowen lived on Madison avenue.

CHAPTER VII.

AN INVITATION TO DINNER.

"Mr. Bowen must be a rich man," thought Frank, as he paused on the steps
of a fine brown-stone mansion, corresponding to the number on his card.

He rang the bell, and asked, "Is Mr. Bowen at home?"

"Yes, but he is in his chamber. I don't think he will see you."

"I think he will," said Frank, who thought the servant was taking too
much upon herself, "as I come by his appointment."

"I suppose you can come into the hall," said the servant, reluctantly.
"Is your business important?"

"You may tell him that the boy he sent for his umbrella has brought it.
He was afraid he had lost it."

"He sets great store by that umbrella," said the girl, in a different
tone. "I'll go and tell him."

Mr. Bowen came downstairs almost immediately. There was a look of
extreme gratification upon his face.