man talking with Mr. Smart.

"That's my father," said Morrison, as he noticed the direction of Tony's
glance. "He arrived this morning. I'll introduce you when he comes out.
He was quite interested in you. Here he is now."

As he said this, Morrison turned to the gentleman who had just emerged
from the office.

"Father, this is the boy I was telling you of--Tony Loring. Tony, let me
make you acquainted with my father, Mr. Morrison."

Tony nearly sank to the floor as he felt his hand grasped by that of the
stout man, while a pair of dark eyes scanned him keenly.

"I had some curiosity to meet you," said Mr. Morrison, after his
scrutiny, "as my son has a habit of picking up some rather peculiar
friends. In this instance, I think he has shown much wisdom, considering
his usual lack of judgment."

Both father and son laughed at this, and then the senior Morrison looked
at his watch.

"It is about nine o'clock," he remarked. "Have you seen anything this
morning of the stranger from Scaly Brook? I think you said he was to be
on hand at that time."

"He is standing by the door now," replied Tony, a certain feeling of
strength creeping over him, which he could not account for.