“This boy has got something to tell you about Mr. Ford¹,” said Grant, breathless with excitement.

“About Mr. Ford?” repeated the broker². “What do you know about Willis Ford?”

“I don't know his name,” replied Johnny. “It's the chap that just went out of the house.”

“It was Mr. Ford,” explained Grant.

“Tell me what you know about him,” said the broker, encouragingly.

“I seed him in the Grand Central Hotel, givin' some bond to a flashy-lookin' man. There was a boy wid him, a big boy.”

“With whom—Mr. Ford?”

“No, wid the other chap.”

“I know who he means, sir,” said Grant. “It was Tom Calder.”

“And the man?”

“Was Jim Morrison, the same man that gave me the bonds to sell.”

“That seems important,” said Mr. Reynolds. “I did not believe Ford capable of such rascality³.”

“He had as good a chance to take the bonds as I, sir. He was here last evening.”

“Was he?” asked the broker, quickly. “I did not know that.”

“He was here for an hour at least. I saw him come in and go out.”

Mr. Reynolds asked several more questions of the telegraph boy, and enjoined⁴ him to silence.

“My boy,” he said, “come here to-morrow evening at half-past seven. I may want you.”

“I will, sir, if I can get away. I shall be on duty.”

“Say to the telegraph company that I have an errand for you. Your time will be paid for.”

“That will make it all right, sir.”

“And, meanwhile, here is a dollar for your own use.”

Johnny's eyes sparkled, for with his limited earnings⁵ this sum would come in very handy. He turned away, nearly forgetting the original errand that brought him to the house, but luckily it occurred in time. The nature of it has nothing to do with this story.

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