nvitation and ask you and your son to dine with me this evening and
conclude our eventful day by going to the theater afterward?"

Mr. Tolman hesitated.

"Don't refuse," pleaded the steamboat man. "Our acquaintance has, I
confess, had an unfortunate beginning; but a bad beginning makes for a
good ending, they say, and I feel sure the old adage will prove true in
our case. Accept my invitation and let us try it out."

"You are very kind," murmured Mr. Tolman vaguely, "but I--"

"Help me to persuade your father to be generous, Stephen," interposed
Mr. Ackerman. "We must not let a miserable affair like this break up
what might, perhaps, have been a delightful friendship."

"I don't need any further persuading, Ackerman," Mr. Tolman spoke
quickly. "I accept your invitation with great pleasure."

"That's right!" cried Mr. Ackerman, with evident gratification.
"Suppose you come to my house at seven o'clock if that will be
convenient for you. We will have a pleasant evening together and forget
lost pocketbooks, detectives and policemen."

Taking out a small card, he hurriedly scrawled an address upon it.

"I keep a sort of bachelor's hall out on Riverside Drive," explained he,
with a shade of wistfulness. "My butler looks out for me and sees that I
do not starve to death. He and his son are really excellent housekeepers
and make me very comfortable." He slipped into his overcoat. "At seven,
then," he repeated. "Don't fail me for I should be much disappointed.
Good-by!" and with a wave of his hand he departed, leaving Stephen and
his father to themselves.

CHAPTER X

AN EVENING OF ADVENTURE

That evening Steve and his father took a taxi-cab and drove to the
number Mr. Ackerman had given them. It proved to be an imposing
apartment house of cream brick overlooking the Hudson; and the view from
the fifth floor, where their host lived, was such a fascinating one that
the boy could hardly be persuaded to leave the bay window that fronted
the shifting panorama before him.

"So you like my moving picture, do you, Steve?" inquired the New Yorker
merrily.

"It is great! If I lived here I shouldn't do a bit of studying," was the
lad's answer.

"You think the influence of the place bad, then."

"It would be for me," Stephen chuckled.

Both Mr. Tolman and Mr. Ackerman laughed.

"I will own," the latter confessed, "that at first those front windows
demoralized me not a little. They had the same lure for me as th