ectfully.

They walked through Wall Street together, the broker chatting
pleasantly. On the way Fred met Raymond, who stared in surprise and
disgust as he saw the intimate terms on which Fred appeared to be with
his wealthy employer. Mr. Wainwright led the way into an expensive
restaurant of a very select character, and motioned Fred to sit down at
a table with him.

After the orders were given, he said: "I have invited you to lunch with
me, as I could not speak at the office without being overheard. Of
course the great service which you rendered me and mine last evening, I
can never forget. I do not propose to pay you for it."

"I am glad of that, sir," said Fred earnestly.

"I feel that money is entirely inadequate to express my gratitude, but
I shall lose no opportunity of advancing your interests and pushing you
on in business."

"Thank you, sir."

"Indeed, it so happens that I have an opportunity even now of showing
my confidence in you."

Fred listened with increased attention.

"Some months since," continued the broker, "a confidential clerk who
had been employed in my office for years suddenly disappeared, and with
him about fifteen thousand dollars in money and securities. As they
were my property, and no one else was involved, I did not make the loss
public, thinking that I might stand a better chance of getting them
back."

"But, sir, I should think the securities would be sold, and the amount
realized spent."

"Well thought of, but there was one hindrance. They were not negotiable
without the indorsement of the owner in whose name they stood."

"Yes, sir, I see."

"Sooner or later, I expected to hear from them, and I have done so.
Yesterday this letter came to me from my defaulting clerk."

He placed a letter, with a Canadian postmark in Fred's hand.

"Shall I read it?'" asked Fred.

"Yes, do so."

This was the letter:

MR. WAINWRIGHT,

DEAR SIR--I am ashamed to address you after the manner in which I have
betrayed your confidence and robbed you, but I do it in the hope of
repairing to some extent the wrong I have committed, and of restoring
to you a large part of the stolen bonds. If it depended on myself alone
I should have little difficulty, but I had a partner in my crime. I may
say indeed that I never should have robbed you had I not been
instigated to it by another, This man, who calls himself Paul Bowman, I
made acquaintance with at a billiard saloon in New York. He insinuated