It was nine o'clock when Nathan Graves left the house, John Wade himself
accompanying him to the door.

"How soon do you think you can carry out my instructions?" asked Wade.

"To-morrow, if possible."

"The sooner the better."

"It is lucky I fell in with him," said Nathan Graves to himself, with
satisfaction, as he slowly walked down Fifth Avenue. "It's a queer
business, but that's none of my business. The main thing for me to
consider is that it brings money to my purse, and of that I have need
enough."

Graves left the house richer by a hundred dollars than he entered it.

It was eleven o'clock on the forenoon of the next day when Frank walked
up Canal Street toward Broadway. He had been down to the wharves
since early in the morning, seeking for employment. He had offered his
services to many, but as yet had been unable to secure a job.

As he was walking along a man addressed him:

"Will you be kind enough to direct me to Broadway?"

It was Nathan Graves, with whom Frank was destined to have some
unpleasant experiences.