he said in German. He sat down at the table and buried his face
in his arms. His wife, who was also weeping, crossed to him, and tried
to comfort him by patting him on the back.

"I think," said Peter, "we had best drop the suits."

Mr. Bohlmann looked up. "It is not the money, Mr. Stirling," he said,
still speaking in German. "See." He drew from a drawer in his desk a
check-book, and filling up a check, handed it to Peter. It was dated and
signed, but the amount was left blank. "There," he said, "I leave it to
you what is right."

"I think Mr. Dummer will feel we have not treated him fairly," said
Peter, "if we settle it in this way."

"Do not think of him. I will see that he has no cause for complaint,"
the brewer said. "Only let me know it is ended, so that my wife and my
daughters--" he choked, and ended the sentence thus.

"Very well," said Peter. "We'll drop the suits."

The husband and wife embraced each other in true German fashion.

Peter rose and came to the table. "Three of the cases were for five
thousand each, and the other two were for two thousand each," he said,
and then hesitated. He wished to be fair to both sides. "I will ask you
to fill in the check for eight thousand dollars. That will be two each
for three, and one each for two."

Mr. Bohlmann disengaged himself from his wife, and took his pen. "You do
not add your fee," he said.

"I forgot it," laughed Peter, and the couple laughed with him in their
happiness. "Make it for eight thousand, two hundred and fifty."

"Och," said the brewer once more resuming his English. "Dat is too
leedle for vive cases."

"No," said Peter. "It was what I had decided to charge in case I got any
damages."

So the check was filled in, and Peter, after a warm handshake from both,
went back to his office.

"Dat iss a fine yoong mahn," said the brewer.

CHAPTER XVII.

A NEW FRIEND.

The day after this episode, Peter had the very unusual experience of a
note by his morning's mail. Except for his mother's weekly letter, it
was the first he had received since Watts had sailed, two years before.
For the moment he thought that it must be from him, and the color came
into his face at the mere thought that he would have news of--of--Watts.
But a moment's glance at the writing showed him he was wrong, and he
tore the envelope with little interest in his face. Indeed after he had
opened it, he looked at his wall for a moment before he fixed his mind
on