eper at the
theatre was warned not to admit him to the house; and Charley Edwards
remorsefully promised the boy's father not to see him again.

The members of the stock company were vastly amused when some of Paul's
stories reached them--especially the women. They were hard-working women,
most of them supporting indolent husbands or brothers, and they laughed
rather bitterly at having stirred the boy to such fervid and florid
inventions. They agreed with the faculty and with his father, that Paul's
was a bad case.

The east-bound train was ploughing through a January snow-storm; the dull
dawn was beginning to show grey when the engine whistled a mile out of
Newark. Paul started up from the seat where he had lain curled in uneasy
slumber, rubbed the breath-misted window glass with his hand, and peered
out. The snow was whirling in curling eddies above the white bottom
lands, and the drifts lay already deep in the fields and along the
fences, while here and there the long dead grass and dried weed stalks
protruded black above it. Lights shone from the scattered houses, and
a gang of labourers who stood beside the track waved their lanterns.

Paul had slept very little, and he felt grimy and uncomfortable. He had
made the all-night journey in a day coach because he was afraid if he
took a Pullman he might be seen by some Pittsburgh business man who had
noticed him in Denny & Carson's office. When the whistle woke him, he
clutched quickly at his breast pocket, glancing about him with an
uncertain smile. But the little, clay-bespattered Italians were still
sleeping, the slatternly women across the aisle were in open-mouthed
oblivion, and even the crumby, crying babies were for the nonce stilled.
Paul settled back to struggle with his impatience as best he could.

When he arrived at the Jersey City station, he hurried through his
breakfast, manifestly ill at ease and keeping a sharp eye about him.
After he reached the Twenty-third Street station, he consulted a cabman,
and had himself driven to a men's furnishing establishment which was just
opening for the day. He spent upward of two hours there, buying with
endless reconsidering and great care. His new street suit he put on in
the fitting-room; the frock coat and dress clothes he had bundled into
the cab with his new shirts. Then he drove to a hatter's and a shoe
house. His next errand was at Tiffany's, where he selected silver mounted
brushes and a scarf-pin. He would n