was a model of exactitude. Yet the clock struck nine, and
half-past, and ten before he appeared in the store.

Before he changed his coat Bob was at his side.

"Mr. Wheatcroft he wants to see you now in a hurry," said the boy.

Major Van Zandt paled swiftly, and steadied himself by a grasp of the
railing.

"Does Mr. Wheatcroft wish to see me?" he asked, faintly.

"You bet he does," the boy answered, "an' in a hurry, too. He came
bright an' early this morning a-purpose to see you, an' he's been
a-waiting for two hours. An' I guess he's got his mad up now."

When the old book-keeper with his blanched face and his faltering step
entered the private office Mr. Wheatcroft wheeled around in his chair.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" he cried. "At last!"

"I regret that I was late this morning, Mr. Wheatcroft," Van Zandt
began.

"That's no matter," said the employer;--"at least, I want to talk about
something else."

"About something else?" echoed the old man, feebly.

"Yes," responded Mr. Wheatcroft. "Shut the door behind you, please, so
that that red-headed cub out there can't hear what I am going to say,
and take a chair. Yes; there is something else I've got to say to you,
and I want you to be frank with me."

Whatever it was that Mr. Wheatcroft had to say to Major Van Zandt it
had to be said under the eyes of the clerks on the other side of the
glass partition. And it took a long time saying, for it was evident to
any observer of the two men as they sat in the private office that Mr.
Wheatcroft was trying to force an explanation of some kind from the old
book-keeper, and that the Major was resisting his employer's entreaties
as best he could. Apparently the matter under discussion was of an
importance so grave as to make Mr. Wheatcroft resolutely retain his
self-control; and not once did he let his voice break out explosively,
as was his custom.

Major Van Zandt was still closeted with Wheatcroft when Mr. Whittier
arrived. The senior partner stopped near the street door to speak to a
clerk, and he was joined almost immediately by his son.

"Well, Paul," said the father, "have I got down here before you after
all, and in spite of your running away last night?"

"No," the son responded, "I was the first to arrive this
morning--luckily."

"Luckily?" echoed his father. "I suppose that means that you have been
able to accomplish your purpose--whatever it was. You didn't tell me,
you know."

"I'm ready to tell yo