A story of the iron mills. After borrowing large sums of money, one of the partners of the firm disappears, and soon after Mr. Sterling, the father of the hero of the story, also leaves home in a mysterious manner. Manly, the son, has hard work keeping his father's almost completed model of a new invention out of the hands of their enemies , procuring money to run the mills; settling trouble among the hands; but finally succeeds in interesting a banker through his kindness to the latter's horse. Curly, a young friend who worked in the mill, spends his spare time carving a figure out of the iron refuse which eventually proves his identity as the son of the new foreman, and who afterwards becomes one of the world's noted sculptors. The models which Manly tried so hard to protect are those illustrating the welding of iron by the famous Cort method, —this being a true story of the invention. 282 pages. Illustrated by W.H. Fry. $1.00.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Boy and the Young Sculptor ...... 7
II. "It Never Rains, but It Pours." ..... 18
III. Manly Cannot Find His Father ...... 28
IV. A Telegram ............. 35
V. Another Telegram, but More Startling
than the First .............. 46
VI. The Situation at Greenwich ....... 55
VII. The Shutdown ............ 64
VIII. "Like His Father" .......... 74
IX. Sheriff Whitcomb's Triumph ....... 83
X. Mr. Whitcomb Makes an Offer ...... 91
XI. The Message from Greenwich ...... 99
XII. For the Sake of a Horse ........ 109
XIII. A Bold Request ............ 115
XIV. Mr. Steele's Reply ........... 123
XV. A Crisis in Affairs ........... 131
XVI. Manly Finds Himself with Millionaires . 141
XVII. HI range Disappearance of Manly's Father 149
XVIII. The Pursuit in the Dark ........ 157
XIX. "Better Late than Never ". ....... 165
XX. Settling Up ............. 173
XXI. The Hawk Shows Its Claws ...... 181
XXII. Whitcomb Has an Inning ....... 189
XXIII " A Chip of the Old Block " ...... 197
XXIV. Manly's Independence —
Curly Finds Himself in a Hard Place.... 204
XXV. Curly's Masterpiece .......... 213
XXVI. A Note for Five Thousand Dollars .... 221
XXVII. The Last Straw ........... 228
XXVIII.Manly Visits Rollin Steele ....... 238
XXIX. Manly Sees Leonard Grasp ....... 246
XXX. "You Have Conquered!" ....... 253
XXXI. " Excitement Enough for a Dozen Auctions!" 263
XXXII. Clearing Up ............. 269
XXXIII.In Which the Means Are in Harmony with the
Ends ............. 275

ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE
"You shall not give that poor horse another blow"

. . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece

A third person sprang from the shadows of the next
furnace and caught the end of the bar .... 70

Manly reached the fallen tree just as his father stepped
upon its slippery trunk .......... 140

With a low cry of terror Crush Curlew retreated . . 210

CHAPTER I.

THE BOY AND THE YOUNG SCULPTOR.

"Don't! You musn't do that! Oh, Joe Bleak! how you do—stop! stop!"

The speaker was a pale-faced, slender boy of sixteen, clad in a ragged shirt and trousers, the latter garment reaching but a little below his knees, while the sleeves of the former had been cut off at the elbows, a thick coating of grime and coal dust making up in its way for whatever of clothing he may seemed to have lacked. While there was evidence about him showing he belonged to the very poorest of the working class, the contour of his pinched features, almost girlish in their outlines, the clear light of his brown eyes and the expression of his lips told that he had a mind above the dreary routine of his daily tasks.

His environments were wild and weird in the extreme. Over his head hung the soot-blackened, tent-like roofs of Orcroft's iron mills, covering an acre or more of ground, if layers of iron siftings, cinders, rocks and refuse metals can be called by that name. Behind him, on his right, and in the distance to his left and front, the fiery mouths of the iron furnaces glowered upon the night scene like so many monsters chained in their dens.

To make the scene more startling to him unused to such sights, fire leaped from pits in spiral columns and red-hot blades of every conceivable shape, from the filtering sands in liquid metal flames, from the wide-mouthed caldrons of boiling ore in all colors and tints, while here and there, looking in their scanty garbs and liberal coatings of black dust, grease and grime, like so many beings from another world, flitted to and fro under the shifting lights the men who tended these works. These workmen were rough and unlettered, generally faithful in the discharge of their narrow round of duty, but with no ambition above the low wages they obtained.

Though the youthful speaker had uttered his remonstrance in a voice pitched at a high key, the incessant clangor of heavy hammers and the deep grinding of the ponderous machinery in the distance, with the hissing of angry flames, deep roaring of the fires in the pits and the unearthly, guttural noise of the molten metal bubbling and crackling in the huge caldrons nearby, drowned his words before they could reach the ears of his fellow workmen, excepting the stout, beetle-browed man who stood in front of him.

"Bah! whut bizness hev ye to fritter yer time in putterin' with sich as thet" pointing at the same time to a most unexpected object for that place.

This was nothing less than a graven image carved from a block of the waste ore which comes after the pig metal is run. The figure was that of a youth a couple of years older than him whom this unappreciative workman was threatening, and with a larger frame and features possessing a firmness and indication of command his lacked. The refuse ore from which it had been cut was of a porous nature, inclined to be waxy and of such a very delicate pink shade that the statue presented a marvelous resemblance to a human being in the flesh tints. A critic might have condemned certain of the lines as harsh and out of harmony,but it was, on the whole, a piece of carving an older and more experienced artist could have claimed with pride.

"Why don't yer speak out!" demanded the man, advancing a step. "Yer don't say yer didn't do yit?"

"No, Joe," faltered the trembling boy, "but I did it out of work hours—every bit."

"I know better, an' who's a bigger right to say yit, seein' I'm boss o' these furnaces? 'Taint th' fust time ye hev been up to sich waste o' time or I'd let yer erlone. Es 'tis I'm goin' to bust th' thing, an' I'll crack yer head if yer dare to yip."

The boy sculptor knew the other was in temporary charge of the furnaces, and he knew also that he was one to carry out his threat at any consequences, but the image was very dear to him, so, placing himself in front of it, he exclaimed :

"Please don't touch it, Joe. Don't you see it's the master's boy, the little boss who—"

"I don't keer ef it's th' boy o' the king, I'll crack its head! But I'll crack yours first, ef yer don't stand erway."

Bleak had raised a long, heavy iron rod that he carried to stir the fires when necessary, and a deadly expression came into his bleared eyes.

"I'll l'arn ye how to putter erway yer master's time," gritted Bleak, his grasp closing more firmly upon the iron rod.

Realizing his danger, the boy uttered a low cry; at the same moment a third person sprang from the shadows of the next furnace and caught the end of the bar opposite to that in the hands of Bleak with a hold that defied the strength of the would-be assailant.

Finding himself thus unexpectedly thwarted, Bleak turned around as quickly as his clumsy gait would allow, an angry snarl leaving his grimy lips.

He found himself face to face with a youth of eighteen, whom it did not require a second glance to show was the original of the graven image which had caused the trouble. He was a manly-looking youth, tall and stoutly built for his age, with regular, clearly cut features and black eyes, which met the iron puddler's gaze without any trace of fear. He was dressed better than the others, though he bore a coating of ash and cinders that told he had been at work as well as they.

"Te' master's b'y!" muttered Bleak. Then he exclaimed in a louder voice:

"Whut air ye doin' hyur, youngster?"

"I might with better reason ask that of you, Joe, judging by your actions. Don't harm that boy."

The words were spoken in a calm tone, and, though not in as high a key as the others had used, more plainly heard.

"How long has yit been sence ye hev been runnin' th' mills!" demanded Bleak, doggedly, " I reckon I 'm boss till Willey comes back, which 'tain't likely 'll be ter night."

"Boss or no boss, you have no right to harm that boy, and mind you, sir, that you do not."

The yellow flames from the furnace showed Bleak's features in the contortions of rage, but somehow he suppressed the fierce words that he wanted to utter, exclaiming in a tone that scarcely reached his companions:

"Mebbe ye hev er right to walk over me rough shod, but I reckon there'll be a countin' fer yit. I ain't been erwaychin' this b'y fer nothin'," raising his voice, "an' he's puttered erway all th' time he's goin' to on sich traps," pointing to the image. "Ye may be sorry fer yer imp'dence w'en I've tol' Grasp."

Not caring to have any argument with the iron puddler, Manly allowed him to leave the
place without answering his remark. He had seen the graven image for the first time, and he stood for what seemed a long while to the young sculptor looking at it without speaking.

"Did you do that?" he finally asked, turning to his trembling companion.

"Yes, sir," faltered the boy, mistaking the look upon his countenance for that of displeasure. "I hope I haven't done anything very wrong. I hev seen ye menny times when ye didn't know it, an' I—"

"It isn't that," broke in the older youth, "though I little expected to find myself so honored. I must say the work is well done, though you have flattered me very much."

Perhaps the other did not understand fully what had been said, or it may have been from the effect of the first kind words he had ever heard addressed to him that the young sculptor did not offer to reply.

"How did you make that?"

"Chipped it out of korl, sir, with my knife," displaying an old, broken-bladed affair which did not look as though it would cut anything.

"I hope ye ain't mad with me. I meant no 'fense, hones'."

" Offense ? Why should I be angry with you ? Is this your first work of the kind?"

"Oh, no, sir," his countenance brightening. "I hev chipped out lots and lots, but I hev never kept 'em as long as I hev this, 'cos th' boss don't like to hev me. But I do it all out of work hours. I took a piece to the house once, but dad walloped me so fer doin' it I didn't darst try thet ag'in. It's jess good times for me to make 'em."

"What is your name?"

"Curly, sir."

"A singular name. I think you are Crush Curlew's boy? At least I have seen you go there."

"Yes, sir. I don't s'pec' Curl's my real name. They give me it on 'count my hair; it's curly you see."

Manly Sterling had noticed that he possessed the finest head of silken brown hair, hanging in waving masses about his shoulders, that he had ever seen. But he was not thinking so much of that then as he was of the miserable abode in which this boy lived with his uncouth parents. He knew Crush Curlew as one of the very lowest of the hands working in the mills, a tall, stoop-shouldered man, whose sole ambition in carrying him through the week's hard work was the anticipated debauch at its close. He had been told that Mrs. Curlew, who worked in the little factory just above the iron mills, was little, if any, better than he. But this boy, claiming them as his parents, was evidently a genius.

"I judge I need not tell you who I am."

"Ye air Manly Sterlin', the master's boy, thet everybody likes. I wish— "

The appearance of a messenger for his companion caused Curly to stop in the midst of his speech.

When Manly had spoken to the newcomer briefly, he said to the boy sculptor:

"I want you to keep that statue for me, please. I will be after it before I go h«me, and will pay you for it."

As if unable to comprehend the kindly notice which had been thus unexpectedly bestowed upon him, Curly watched the departure of his new-found friend in silence, until he was suddenly brought back to a realization of his situation by the resounding thwack on the side of his head, which sent him headlong upon a pile of coal-ash and cinders.

"Stand there er-gorpin', will yer?" muttered Bleak. "I'll l'arn ye Willey ain't boss here ternight."

CHAPTER II.

"IT NEVER RAINS, BUT IT POURS."

The furnace tended by him whom we must know as Curly, for the want of a better name, was near the bounds of one side of the works, so Manly Sterling was obliged to pass nearly the width of the grounds before his guide stopped.

"There's Ferguson," said the latter, simply.

They were now in the main workshop, and the young ironworker knew there had been some
difficulty in performing an important piece of work. Seeing the man called Ferguson, he beckoned to him, asking:

"Where's Clinch?"

"Out this afternoon, with a broken back or some sich complaint."

"Does Mr. Grasp know of this?"

"Grasp knows nothing. He hasn 't been near to-night. This bar of iron is bothering us like — well, no matter what, so long as we can't fix it 'cording to what it should be."

'He pointed' as he spoke to a long bar, or rather two bars, of iron, hung just above the forge in temporary slings. The fire in the forge had been allowed to die down somewhat, though it was brilliant enough to cast its sharp sword flashes across the murky walls and cut into vivid, fantastic shapes the black clouds that lowered from the low roof. It was sufficiently light about the forge to carry on the work, and for the young ironworker to make a hasty ex­amination of the task undertaken by the men.

"You missed in your flux, Mr. Ferguson, and you did not draw out the centers as you should. Start up the forge fires, Jackman; lend your hands here, boys, and we will soon bring these bars together so they can't find the seam. Raise that end sling a bit, Moulton; there, that will do. Now be ready at the word to lift them into position."

While the boy was giving off his orders the forgeman had sprung to his work with alacrity, so that the flames were crackling and leaping merrily from the low, wide arch, soon beginning to show their effect upon the ends of the long shafts of iron that had been placed so as to receive the most heat possible.

Unmindful of the blades of flames shooting about his head, or the darting tongues of fire that leaped spitefully out first one way and then another, the young ironworker kept a close watch over the bars, noticing with the practical eye of one who understood that just such a pitch of temperature must be reached, and no other, until at last he cried:

"Catch hold there, Ferguson, Morgan, Fritz; lower—back—forward — down—stand aside!'' and as the ponderous bars fell into position on the huge anvil with a resounding force, he seized one of the heavy hammers near at hand to begin to smite the parts with all the power he could command.

In a moment a perfect cloud of fiery stars flew about his head, falling in showers upon the onlookers or soaring aloft into the dark recesses over their heads, until the whole building looked like an amphitheater of falling meteors.

All the time the sounding blows of the boy rang out on the scene, while his clear voice was heard even above them, as he gave out his orders to the workmen, until, his task done, he stepped back to wipe the perspiration from his heated brow with the back of his hand.

"I never see such a feller as you are," Fer­guson, even with the thought of his failure in his mind, could not help saying. "You have welded that like the—"

The blunt ironworker was inclined to be pro­fane in his speech, but for once he was saved the utterance of the improper word by the sound of another voice breaking in suddenly above his and the din of the noisy scene, and which commanded:

"Come out here, young man! We want to see you on important business."

Manly Sterling understood that the request was directed to him, and giving a hasty
direc­tion to the men in regard to polishing off the welded bar of iron, he went out of the mills to meet the unknown spokesman.

He was surprised to find that a drizzling rain had set in since sunset, and coming out of the dazzling glare of the furnace fires it was some moments before he could distinguish the forms of two men seated in the midst of the rubber blankets of a top carriage.

"Good evening, sirs," he said.

"We want to see Messrs. Sterling & Grasp," said one of the men. "This," indicating his companion, "is Mr. Luther Corning, and I am Sheriff Whitcomb."

"Mr. Grasp is in the office, I suppose, Mr. Whitcomb, as it is his time to fa& here at the mills. Father has gone home."

"We will see this Grasp first, then. Will you hitch your horse and come in with me,
Corn­ing ?"

"If there is a good chance to fasten the ani­mal so he can't get away. He's a bit afraid of all this noise and confusion. I should think it would drive a man crazy to work in such a place."

Leaving the speaker to fasten his horse as he wished, Manly escorted the sheriff into the of­fice of the Orecroft iron mills, which was scarce­ly less dingy in appearance than the works themselves. The little ten by twelve room pre­sented an uncommonly topsy-turvy appear­ance at this time, the big account books having been tossed in a heap upon the floor along with a miscellaneous collection of articles which had accumulated about the place. Mr. Grasp was certainly not in, as the office was deserted.

"He's about the mill somewhere," said Man­ly, who saw nothing singular in the absence of the junior member of the firm. "If you will kindly wait I will find him."

"Think I will go with you," declared the sheriff, acting and speaking in a manner the boy ironworker could not understand. "Here, Corning, I will leave you in charge of this place," continued the officer as he started after Manly.

Passing swiftly from one section of the mills to another, with Sheriff Whitcomb close upon his heels, listening intently to every reply which was made to his inquiries, Manly failed to get any trace of the missing Mr. Grasp. No one had seen him since four o 'clock in the after­noon, and it was then past eight.

"Well, young man," said the Sheriff at last, "it is evidently no use for us to fool away any more time looking for Mr. Grasp, when your father will do just as well, in fact, better."

"What is your business, Mr. Whitcomb?" asked Manly. "It is possible I can do as well as he. I suppose he has gone to bed before this time, as he has to get into the mills at two o'clock in the morning now, and I do not like to dis­turb him."

"It is very important we should see him, young man. Mr. Corning holds a note against the firm for a thousand dollars and interest, and the note is several days overdue. They have not minded his notices, and now he is naturally anx­ious to know what they are going to do about settling. Especially is this the situation, as ugly reports have been circulated this afternoon con­cerning their financial affairs."

"I was not aware, sir, there was anything wrong. If they have had any money of Mr. Corning, which I did not know, they will look after the matter to-morrow.''

" Tut—tut! that isn't business at all. We are here for a settlement to-night or—"

"I am looking for Mr. Henry Sterling!" ex­claimed the voice of a newcomer suddenly break­ing upon the little group. '' Hilloa, Whitcomb!'' recognizing the sheriff. "I was down to your place, but could not find you. They said you were up this way somewhere. How do you find things here!"

"We have been looking for Mr. Grasp with­out finding him,'' said Manly, beginning to feel there was something wrong about it all. "I Ex­pect father is at the house, and I am quite sure Mr. Grasp will come in a few minutes. I da not understand where he is, as the mills are left in his charge at this time."

"I am in a hurry and can not wait," said the last comer. "I have been sent up here by
Earn­ing, Dewing & Dunn, who hold notes against the firm amounting to over two thousand dollars, and this was the last day of grace. They don't want to make any trouble if it can be helped, but the matter must be fixed up immediately."

The sheriff and his client exchanged signifi­cant glances, but before any reply could be made a third arrival appeared on the scene, whom all quickly recognized as the cashier of the leading bank in Orecroft.

"Is Mr. Sterling in!" he asked.

"No, sir, but I think he is at his house," re­plied Manly.

"I wish to notify the firm that their note drawn in favor of Cutter, Welch & Co. for eight hundred dollars had been protested. I wish also, to ask them to come to the bank at nine o'clock to-morrow and fix up their accounts with us. They have overdrawn this day one thousand five hundred dollars. I saw Grasp at two o'clock and he promised to look after it, but he has not been near. I do not understand what they mean by such actions, as they have always been square and prompt in their dealings."

The rumbling of the machinery and the dull roar of the fires in the distant furnaces broke the silence, while the men looked one upon an­other, and Manly Sterling, with an undefined dread tugging at his heart, looked silently upon them all.

CHAPTER III.

MANLY CAN NOT FIND HIS FATHER.

Whew!" exclaimed Sheriff Whitcomb when the silence had grown embarrassing, "affairs take on a serious shape."

"Mercy me!" cried Mr. Corning, who was a very nervous person, "shall I lose my money! It will ruin me if I do. A thousand dollars of hard-earned money gone at one fell swoop! Oh, the dishonesty of men! I had thought Henry Sterling the perfection of honesty."

"None of you will lose a dollar by father," spoke up Manly, recovering his self-possession.
"I do not understand all this, but no doubt father will make it plain. If you will kindly wait here I will ask him to come at once,'' starting to leave the office as he finished speaking.

"I think I will go with you," declared the officer for the second time since the search had begun, seeming determined that the young ironworker should not get out of his sight.

The rain was still falling with a steady drizzle, the variegated lights from the forge and furnace fires making it look like a feathery veil of many hues, transparent with long trails of gold, bronze and silver, or touched with the deeper tints of red, violet and pink, while above these the furnaces sent sword flames high into the cimmerian space, the glittering blades quivering till some new outburst should send a cloud of starry sparks against the shifting scene, which softened by the vieing colors appeared not unlike a Milky Way.

But these sights were lost to Manly Sterling at this time. He did not even notice that it was raining, as he hastened along the cinder-covered road leading past his home.

Sheriff Whitcomb did not offer to speak, realizing perhaps something of his companion's feelings and respecting them.

A short distance below the mills the road led over a wooden bridge spanning the stream whose yellow-stained waters afforded the power to carry the ponderous machinery, and a few hundred rods beyond this place they came to a plain two-storied house, which stood slightly removed from the narrow street. Though there was nothing pretentious about the dwelling, it was far better than those around it.

A light shone at a couple of the windows, while through the thin shade of one could be distinguished the outlines of a woman's figure.

This Manly knew was his mother, and, not wishing to alarm her by the presence of a stranger, he quickened his steps, so as to call her to the door before the sheriff should come into sight. She answered his summons promptly, showing she had been expecting some one.

"Father is wanted over to the mills, mother."

"Is that you, Manly? Why didn't you come in ? Your father is not in the house. He has not been home to his supper yet, and it is getting cold. I was getting worried about him, and was wishing I had some one to send after him. Now, you do not know where he is ?"

"He must be in his private workshop. I did not think of looking there, as I felt sure he had come home. Oh, well, do not worry. As soon as he has attended to a little business matter, I will see that he comes home."

"I wish you would, Manly, for, do you know, I have felt a, strange fear all day, just as if something dreadful was going to happen. I haven't wanted to say so, but your father hasn't seemed like himself of late. I do wish he would think less of that invention of his."

" Have no fears, mother, I shall be home with him in a few minutes. He has overworked, that is all."

Notwithstanding his apparent cheerfulness, Manly felt thankful that his mother had not seen the sheriff, who had considerately kept in the background, though listening to every word which had been spoken.

As Manly led the way back toward the mill, he said to the officer:

"It is strange I had not thought of looking [ for father in his workshop, but as he has been in the habit of going directly home lately, as soon as his hours at the mills were over, I supposed he had done so to-night."

"I understand," said the sheriff, slowly. "Your mother said he has been acting rather
peculiarly for a time. If I am not mistaken, business has been going hard."

"What mother said is due to her imagination, and she is slightly nervous. Business has never been so good since I can remember, Mr. Whitcomb."

"It doesn't look that way according to the amount of money they have been borrowing."

"I don't understand that, sir; but I have no doubt father will be able to give a
satisfactory explanation."

"I hope so sincerely. Henry Sterling has always had the name of being a strictly honest man. I shouldn't be fooling round as I am now if I hadn't felt some regard for him. By the way, he may have been putting money into that invention of his. Such fascinations have proved the ruin of as good men as he. Come to think of it, that was what Grasp said."

"I do not know anything about what Mr. Grasp said, Mr. Whitcomb. We will soon have father's story, which will make it all plain. Come down this way, sir. Father has what he calls his 'private workshop' at the lower end. It is strange I do not see a light."

They had now passed behind the dark walls of the east end of the mills, where the glare of the furnaces did not penetrate, so they were obliged to advance more slowly.

Manly's anxiety increased as he approached the door, and he began to feel that it was not going to prove as he had hoped.

"Father!" he shouted, giving the door a vigorous shaking, but his repeated cries failed to obtain any response.

"He isn't there, Mr. Whitcomb. I do not understand where he can be."

"Haven't you any key to the door?"

"No, sir. Father would never intrust a key even to me. It was in there he experimented on his new process of welding."

"I should think he sadly lacked confidence in people. It won't take but a moment to break in the door. Something may have happened to him in there alone."

"I think he is somewhere else. If you will please wait here one minute I will look in one more place for him."

Without waiting for the impatient sheriff to reply, Manly darted around the corner of the building into the darkness beyond. Then, not one minute, but five minutes, did the perplexed officer wait, when, in a fit of desperation he picked up a heavy bar of iron at his feet and was in the act of breaking the door as a man came rushing that way in a most excited manner.

Seeing the sheriff he stopped, exclaiming:

"Oh, sir, the master's boy has been killed!" "Do you mean young Sterling?" demanded
Sheriff Whitcomb sharply.


"Yes, sir. His dead body lays just below. I see it and started for the office."

CHAPTER IV.

A TELEGRAM.

The man was very much excited, and he shook in every part as he made his startling
announcement to the sheriff, who was at a loss to understand him at first.

"Come this, way," requested the workman. "He lays right near the path winding around the end of the lower mill. I see his face as plain as I see yours."

Mr. Whitcomb followed in silence, wondering what strange turn affairs would take next, and he was in the midst of his bewildering reflections when his guide stopped, saying:

"There 'tis, mister," pointing to the shadowy outlines of a human figure lying by the
pathside.


The head lay in a bar of light sent out from the furnaces, but the body was not so plainly seen.

At the same moment the man spoke a boyish figure sprang from the ground beside the prone form, and putting forth his hands in supplication the youth implored:

"Oh, sirs! please spare him."

Sheriff Whitcomb was too much surprised by the situation to reply at once, and while he hesitated some one came rushing to the spot, exclaiming :
"Did you get tired of waiting for me, Mr. Whitcomb! I could not find him. I do not
understand— "

The speaker, who was none other than Manly Sterling, stopped in the midst of his speech at sight of the boy and the still figure upon the ground.

"Why, Curly, what has happened, you look so frightened? And what have you got that image out here for?"

"It was Bleak, sir! He struck me so hard I fell down and lay a long time. And when I
come round he had carried it out here. He swears it shan't stay in the mills, and he says he will kill me if I cut another."

It was now plain that the excited workman had seen the figure of the young ironworker
engraved out of the korl by Curly, and mistaken it in the semi-darkness for that of the original. Sheriff Whitcomb could understand as much as that.

"Well, never mind Bleak, Curly. I will speak to father about him to-morrow, and I know he will see that you are not troubled any more by him. Callow," addressing the workman, "get help if you need, but bring that figure round into the office. It is mine. Mr. Whitcomb, we can do no better than to go back to the office. Perhaps father has come there before this time. If he has not, all we can do is to wait for him."

The sheriff made no reply, but as they came in front of the private workshop of Mr. Sterling he said:

"It might be well for us to force an entrance here. Something—"

"Father would not like to have us break in that door—"

"That is very good reason why I should force an entrance. Though you will not acknowledge it, I tell you there is something wrong about all this. Why, your own actions show it."

While speaking the officer picked up the bar of iron he had had in his hands before, and, with all the power he could muster, he began to deal the door terrific blows. Following up this fusillade, he soon had the satisfaction of sending the stout structure from its hinges with a loud crash.

"I have some matches," he said, "and it won't take us long to find out whether he is here or not."

Then, by the aid of one after another of the little, flickering lights they hastily looked over the secret workshop of the missing man, not a trace of whom was to be found. The place was littered here and there with such tools and miscellaneous pieces of iron and wood as might be expected in such an apartment. There was an anvil on one side and a forge just beyond, but the fire was out in the latter, while nowhere was there any indication that the room had been recently occupied.

"He's not here, that's certain," admitted the sheriff, finally, as if reluctant to give up the search. "Well, it don't really matter after all. I have only to go ahead, as I ought to have done in the first place, and attach the mills to secure Mr. Corning."

"Perhaps one of them has returned to the office by this time," said Manly, hoping for the best, as they went back to the place.

But neither Mr. Grasp nor his father had appeared at the office, the sheriff showing no surprise.

"I did not look for them here," he said. "I begin to understand that this course was all mapped out and their flight intended beforehand. But I shall secure my clients by attaching everything here, and shall remain here the balance of the night, when to-morrow a duly authorized keeper will be placed in charge of the premises."

Manly listened to this in a dazed sort of way, managing to say at last:

"Mr. Whitcomb, you cannot mean what you say. You will at least wait for father's
explanation. He will explain it all satisfactorily I am sure."

"There is an old saw which says, 'Safe bind sure to find.' I am afraid we would have to wait until the old mills crumbled to ruins before we should see him."

"Mr. Whitcomb, you act and speak in a strange manner. You cannot mean that father
has—has--run—away!"

"That is just what I mean. Why, your own conduct shows that you know there is something wrong. You haven't made the first effort to find your father without being urged. Why should both of the firm keep out of sight if everything was square and above board? There can be but one answer: The Orecroft iron mills are hopelessly involved and their owners have fled in disgrace, too weak to meet the ruin they have inflicted upon themselves."

These sweeping assertions took the young ironworker so much by surprise that he hesitated in his reply. His father had given him no hint that business was not moving along with its accustomed regularity. He had not dreamed of any shrinkage in the output of the work, and he knew that less than a week before they had received an order for car rails which amounted to a large sum. Still there was something about the present situation which was mysterious. Trying to keep back the evidence of pain he felt over Sheriff Whitcomb 's pointed remarks, he said:

"I cannot help thinking that your words are unwarranted, Mr. Whitcomb. I will confess there is something about this matter I do not understand; but I want to say to you, gentlemen, that father does not owe a dollar he cannot and will not pay, only give him proper time. Mr. Parton, please do not give yourself any uneasiness in regard to those checks. I will call at the bank early in the morning, if father does not."

"I trust you will do so, Mr. Sterling, and that everything will be properly adjusted. Good evening, gentlemen," and without longer delay the bank official left the office.

"Parton seems mighty little concerned," muttered the sheriff, "but I guess he will get his eyes open pretty soon. What were you saying, young man!"

"If you please, sir, I would like to see the note Mr. Corning holds against Sterling & Grasp."

In reply the other handed the piece of paper which meant so much to Manly, who examined it closely.

"You see, it is genuine enough," remarked Mr. Whitcomb.

"I notice that it was not written on the kind of paper used here in the office," replied Manly, holding it up so the light shone through it, disclosing the water mark, which was a crown with a capital M directly beneath it, and a peculiar
flourish in which was given in small letters the balance of the word, "ills." "I see also that the ink we keep here in the office was not used."

"What has the kind of paper and ink used got to do with the value of the note 1'' demanded Mr. Whitcomb, showing more excitement than seemed necessary.

"Nothing, sir; though it may mean considerable in another direction."

"Do you insinuate the note is a forgery?" asked Mr. Corning, beginning to move about
uneasily.

"No, sir. I merely wished to show that the note was not written or signed in the office."

"Very true, very true," declared Mr. Corning, rubbing his hands and looking relieved.

"It was done at my house. Nothing very irregular about that, was there, Mr. Whitcomb?"

"If you have no objection, Mr. Cross, I would like to see the note held by Messrs. Earning, Dewing & Dunn," said Manly.

"Certainly, certainly, Mr. Sterling. You will find nothing irregular about that, though it was duly written and signed before it was seen by them."

Upon comparing this latter with the other Manly was not a little surprised to find that it was written upon the same kind of paper and with the same kind of ink.

"Thank you; that is all. Now, as I am not needed here, I think I will go home to quiet mother's anxiety over father's absence. I shall be back in a few minutes."

"You needn't put yourself out to do it," said the sheriff. "I am responsible for everything here now."

"With both father and Mr. Grasp away it may be necessary for some one to look after affairs about the mills," replied Manly, somewhat nettled by the officer's important way.

"Of course; I didn't mean that."

As Manly was leaving the office a strip of yellow paper such as is used in sending out notices from telegraph stations caught his eye, and, picking it up, he read, while he felt that he had found the key at least to the secret of Mr. Grasp's singular disappearance:

"Mr. Leonard Grasp:

"Your father died suddenly this afternoon."

"That explains Mr. Grasp's absence," he said, handing the message to Mr. Whitcomb. "That is dated at four o'clock, and he no doubt left at once for Greenwich. He must have been obliged to leave hastily, without time to speak to any one."

"Perhaps so," acknowledged the sheriff, in a tone which showed his unwillingness to say so, while he scrutinized the telegram closely.

"What do you think of it, Cross?"

Leaving them discussing the situation, Manly started for his home, with a lighter heart.

CHAPTER V.

ANOTHER TELEGRAM, BUT MORE STARTLING THAN THE FIRST.

Manly found his mother very anxious over the non-appearance of his father, but as she knew nothing of the situation at the mills, she was less concerned than she might otherwise have been. He explained to her the telegram announcing the death of Mr. Grasp's father, and that it was supposed he had gone home.

"He must have gone away in a great hurry, for everything about the office was left
topsyturvy, which was the reason we did not find the message sooner."

"Perhaps your father went with him," said Mrs. Sterling, feeling that at last she had found a clew to the mystery of his disappearance.'' He might think it necessary, and not have time to let any one know of his intentions."

"Very true," said Manly, who was glad of the relief the thought gave his mother. "And now I will return to the mills."

His mother was not unwilling that he should do so, as she hoped he would be able to learn something definite of his father.

Upon reaching the office he found the sheriff alone, the other men having gone home. His father had not appeared, and, feeling that he would not see him that night, he started on a tour of inspection over the works.

That was a night both he and his mother would remember as long as they lived. He went back and forth from the office to the house several times, partly to comfort her and partly in the vain hope that at one place or the other he would find his father. He telegraphed to Greenwich without getting any intelligence of him, though he did not tell this to his mother. So the dawn of another day found them as hopeless as ever, and feeling that they had delayed action already too long, plans for more extended search were being made, when a messenger boy from the telegraph station brought a message directed to the firm.

Breaking the envelope with a trembling hand, Manly read:

"A man we believe to be Henry Sterling of your firm, is confined here.
"A. Duncan, Chief of Police."

Unable to credit his senses Manly read and reread the message, and as he did so Sheriff Whitcomb arose from his seat at the desk and looked over his shoulder, to make himself familiar with the startling information.

"In Greenwich police station!" exclaimed the latter, the first to break the silence, ending his speech with a prolonged whistle. Believing there must be some dreadful mistake, Manly started at once for the telegraph station to send a message to Greenwich, asking for an explanation. The suspense became almost unendurable while he was obliged to wait, and the answer that came was brief, but terrible :

"He has lost his reason. Crazy as a loon!"

"I must go at once to Greenwich," he thought. "There is no other alternative. But how came father there? and what does it mean?"

As the first train would not leave until nine-thirty, he would have ample time to go home, and also to look after such other business as demanded his attention. The hardest part of his task would be to break the news to his mother. Hoping it might not prove as bad as it looked, he resolved to withhold from her the whole truth, feeling he was doing what was best in following that course.

Somewhat to his surprise she appeared relieved to know that some trace of him had been received, saying:

"It must have been the news of Mr. Grasp's death that called him to Greenwich, and he did not have time to let us know. He will doubtless come home this forenoon."

"I think I had better go and meet him, mother."

His voice may have betrayed him, or her mother's intuition have told her that he had not acknowledged the full truth. There was something wrong he had not dared to tell. Taking him by the hand, and looking him earnestly in the countenance, she said:

"Manly, my son, there is more than you have told me. You are keeping something back. Perhaps you think you are doing it for my good, but I want you to remember that I am as strong as you, and that it is right I should know even the worst."

He saw his mistake immediately, and he felt guilty for the course he had taken.

"Dear mother, forgive me! I did it for what I believed was your sake, but I can see that it was wrong. You will be better fitted to meet the consequence by knowing the truth now, as terrible as it is. Be brave, for what the end may be I cannot tell. It has all come so suddenly, and is so mysterious, I cannot realize it is so."

Then, while she listened with a calmness that surprised him, he not only told her of the messages which had been received in regard to his father, but he made her fully acquainted with the situation at the mills.

"It is awful, my son, but you can't know how glad I am you did not go away without telling me. I must have learned of it all very soon, and you see how much better it will be for us to meet it together. Always remember, my son, you have no truer friend and helper than your mother. It is possible you are unduly alarmed. I believe it has been brought about by the sudden death of Leonard's father, which has called both him and your father to Greenwich, without preparation for the absence. Let us hope it will end well. One thing you must not forget, Manly; let come what may your father's good name is above reproach."

"I know it, dear mother, and you cannot know what strength your hopeful words have given me. I will never try to deceive you again, even by simply remaining silent when the truth should be spoken."

Feeling wonderfully encouraged by his mother's firm faith in the ultimate happy outcome of the matter, Manly finished his preparations for his journey to Greenwich. Mindful of his promise to Mr. Parton he resolved to call at the bank on the way to the station, telling his mother of this purpose.

On his way hither he called at the mills to explain to foreman Fulton the whole situation, and to give a few words of advice, finding the latter in hearty sympathy with him.

"I want to tell you one thing. Manly Sterling, that it is my belief Leonard Grasp Is at the bottom of all this trouble."

Manly did not stop to reply to this. He had seen that Sheriff Whitcomb had put in a keeper and gone away himself. With conflicting emotions which would be difficult to describe, he hastened toward the bank, to find the cashier anxiously looking for him.

"I am glad to see you so punctual," greeted Mr. Parton. "Mr. Morgan said I was a fool for dallying with you, but I told him I believed you to be a young man of your word and that we could trust you."

"I thank you, Mr. Parton; I intend to do always as I agree. If you have no objection I would like to see that check."

"Certainly. I am glad you are prepared to meet it. It lifts a great responsibility from my shoulders. To be honest, the president gave me a fearful blowing up for not having it protested last night."

"I am very sorry, Mr. Parton, but I have not come prepared to adjust it. You see it has come so unexpectedly, and father and Mr. Grasp have been called to Greenwich by the death of Matthew Grasp, that it has left affairs in bad shape for a short time."

Dismay was written in every line of the cashier 's face, as he handed the check to Manly without speaking.

The young ironworker took the piece of paper and examined it even more critically than he had the notes. He had no hesitation in deciding that it had been written with the same ink used on the others, but the signature of the firm more than aught else had his attention. His father had always been supposed to sign the checks, but all at once a change came over his countenance, and he exclaimed impetuously:

"Mr. Parton, father never signed that check!"

CHAPTER VI

THE SITUATION AT GREENWICH

"What is that you are saying, young man?" asked a voice at his elbow, and Manly was surprised to find that Mr. Morgan, the president of the bank, had stepped out of his private office and stood beside him.

"There is something wrong about this, sir," replied Manly. "This signature does not look like father's, and he always signs the checks."

"And you dare pronounce it a forgery, young man? You may not realize the gravity of the charge."

"I hope you will excuse me, Mr. Morgan, but the writing looks so different from his hand that-"

"Different from his hand? Do you expect a man is going always to cut his letters according to certain lines, as copy plates do? That is where experts get taken in. The fact is, no man writes alike at all times. Nothing would seem to me stronger evidence of forgery than to find two or more signatures written exactly alike. But that isn't the question for us to settle. What we want is money—one thousand five hundred dollars."

"I am very sorry, Mr. Morgan, but I cannot pay it until I have seen father. I am going this morning to Greenwich, and as soon as I get—"

Mr. Morgan stopped him with a wave of his fat hand. He was an exceedingly pompous man, and inclined to be oppressive to those weaker than himself.

"What have I been telling you, Walter?" turning to the cashier. "This is no more than I expected, and we have delayed action too long. Sterling & Grasp have gone beyond their depth."

"But Mr. Sterling has always been the soul of honesty, and when his son said that check should be—"

"Tut—tut! You remember the little story of the pitcher going to the well, Walter, and that it went once at last to be broken. Well, this is a case just like it on a bigger scale. Send it back."

"I hope you don't think father—"

"No use to waste any words about it, young man. It's dollars we want, and not words," and the pompous official returned to his private room.

"You see, it has put me in a hard place," said Mr. Parton, as soon as the president had left. "You can't blame me for what I am obliged to do."

"No—no, but I wish it might stand until I get back from Greenwich! Hello! there is the car whistle now. I shall be too late to catch the train!"

As Manly ran out of the bank he barely missed running head first into Sheriff Whitcomb, who was about entering. He sped at the top of his speed toward the station without stopping to apologize, but as he got within sight of the depot he saw the long train ready to start. By dint of hard running he succeeded in reaching the rear car and swinging himself upon the platform as the train thundered on.

"I wouldn't advise you to try that every time," said a passenger, who then began to dilate upon the way the American people have of waiting until the train is in the station and then rushing to catch upon it, "swinging themselves aboard at the peril of their lives."

Manly Sterling, however, was not in a frame of mind to profit by any such lecture, and he did not speak to or notice any one during the long ride to Greenwich, and as soon as the train came to a stop he hastened to the police station.

He found the chief a very courteous gentleman, who, as soon as he had learned his identity, gave him his undivided attention.

"It is one of the most peculiar cases I ever saw, and wishing to do all I could for the man, I asked Dr. Wise in to see him. I think the doctor is with him now. How did it happen that he came here? It was like this: Word came to us that a demented man was wandering about the streets, go I sent out and had Mm taken here at once. As soon as I found out who he was, I telegraphed to Orecroft. The doctor said the best we could do was to keep him until some one came for him. Come this way if you wish to see him. He is not violent, but the doctor fears he will be."

Under a state of mind he had never dreamed of knowing, and which words cannot describe, Manly followed silently the chief to the room where his father was being kept. He had tried to prepare himself for any ordeal, but he was not equal to the one he met. Could it be possible his father was the changed and altered man crouching in the corner of the small apartment and staring up at him with wide-opened but expressionless eyes? His features were haggard and of a deathly pallor.

"Oh, father, don't you know me?"

In an instant his whole demeanor changed, and, holding out his arms, he cried:

"My son! my son! there is one who believes in me yet."

"His first rational utterance," said good old Dr. Wise; "there is hope after all."

But the swift light of recognition passed in a moment, and the unhappy man paid no further attention to Manly or the others.

"It is the most singular case I ever knew," said the kindly doctor, with a shake of his gray head. "It is evident that he has been laboring under some great mental strain and has met with some great disappointment."

"Perhaps with rest he will recover," said Chief Duncan.

"I am afraid not; I am afraid not."

"Will there be any harm in his son's trying to get him home?"

"His home is the best place for him. It is possible that with quiet surroundings he may escape growing violent. Don't take him to an asylum if it can be avoided. Why, the very surroundings there would render him hopelessly insane."

"Will it be prudent for the boy to take him home alone!"

"It will be safer for me to go. I think I will. To be frank, I feel an uncommon interest in the case. If no objection is raised I hope to have its especial care."

Nothing could suit Manly better, but as he would have plenty of time before the train for Orecroft would start, he felt that he must see Mr. Grasp, his father's partner. He was told that Mr. Matthew Grasp's death was a great shock to the household, as he had been, in apparent good health an hour before he had been stricken down.

"Heart difficulty," said Dr. Wise. "He had been troubled with it for a long time, though he had kept it from his family."

Leaving his father under the care of the doctor, Manly hastened to the fine residence of the late Mr. Grasp, where he was destined to meet with another startling surprise. Leonard Grasp had not been home, and his mother was nearly wild with grief. All that he could learn was the meager fact that the son had telegraphed from Orecroft that he would come as soon as possible.

"Something has happened to prevent his getting here, but he will come—he must!"

Manly made no reply to this, though at last he felt his faith in the other weakening. There was a meaning as well as mystery in the disappearance of Leonard Grasp. As he had no family, until some clew as to his whereabouts could be ascertained a search for him must be made at hazard.

The journey to Orecroft was 'uneventful. Dr. Wise accompanied Manly and his father, though, as it proved, his presence was not needed. If they had expected any change in the appearance of Mr. Sterling upon meeting familiar scenes they were disappointed. With the same unconcern he might have been expected to show among strangers, speaking to no one, he entered his home and sank into the old armchair that had been his favorite seat in years gone by.

Mrs. Sterling, who had been schooling herself for this sad meeting, was forced to turn away to conceal the tears which would come.

In the midst of this melancholy meeting a loud rap sounded on the door, which caused Mrs. Sterling to glance nervously out of the window.

"Oh, dear me, here comes a messenger from the mills—one of the boys—and he is crying like a child. What can have happened now? Oh! is there anything worse to meet!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE SHUTDOWN.

"Be calm, mother," said Manly reassuringly. "There can be nothing worse to come, and we will hope brighter tidings are in store for us. As I can do no good here, I will see what the boy wants and go back with him to the mills."

Seeing that his mother's countenance brightened at his words, the young ironworker left the room to answer the summons at the door. He found Curly outside, anxiously awaiting him.

"What is the trouble now, Curly? Has Bleak been beating you again?"

"Yes, sir; he kicked me down this morning and said dreadful things against me, but that ain't nothing like this other. What has come over 'em all? Men hev all stopped work and air jess standing round and a-swearing and a-cursing at each other. They say work is done at the mills. Dad is cursing louder'n enny one."

While Curly was speaking in a hurried manner between his gasps of fright and grief, Manly saw a body of men coming rapidly over the bridge and approaching the house. He knew the sight of them would worry his mother, so he said:

" Come alone with me, Curly. Bleak has had his last chance to beat you. We will soon see what the trouble is at the mill."

Purposely quickening his steps Manly by this time had come within speaking distance of the approaching party, which was talking loudly one with another. They were all workmen from the "upper furnaces," as the west portion of the works was called, and upon recognizing him stopped with one accord.

"How now, men," greeted Manly, "what is up?"

"I should say the very de'il was to pay," muttered the leader, a tall, dark-visaged, beetle-browed man in middle life. " Where's the ol' man?"

"If you mean father, he is at the house, sir. He is sick."

"Whoot, mon! be keerful wot he gin us!" broke in another. "Ain't th' ol mon run er-way?"

"No, Bobbins. He is at the house sick," replied Manly, looking the speaker squarely in the face. " Who told you he had run away ?"

"They air sayin' so at th' mills, an' work is shut down. No more is goin' bein' done."

"I should like to know, who gave such an order. Father is sick and I am afraid he will not very soon do any more work, but you have no need to stop. Orecroft iron mills must and shall be kept running."

A faint cheer greeted this firm declaration, and with one accord the little crowd started back toward the mills, with Manly and Curly following close upon their heels.

As they approached the mills our hero could see that everywhere there was evidence of a sort of suppressed excitement. Men were collected in small groups talking in low, but earnest tones, many gesticulating in an excited manner. From the sounds, or rather the lack of sounds, he understood that considerable of the machinery was still. Work had been stopped in various parts of the foundry. Until that moment, in the great anxiety and burden of calamity which had so suddenly and unexpectedly fallen on him, Manly had not dreamed of this change.

From one of the knots of workmen Foreman Fulton stepped in his rapid, brusque manner toward Manly, as soon as he had seen him.

"I want to know what is to be done," he said briefly. "Everything is heads and tails. We have been ordered to shut down the mills, but I refused to do that entirely until I had heard from the firm. I am working for Sterling & Grasp, and not for that contemptible sheriff with his brag and bluster."

The words gave Manly hope and courage, for he knew John Fulton was a man he could count on.

"I am afraid Sterling & Grasp are not in a way to give you an order, Mr. Fulton," he said, frankly. "Father is unable to leave the house, and I do not know where Mr. Grasp is."

"It don't matter much where Leonard Grasp is, and I have heard of your father's sickness, Manly. In that case I must look to you for my orders."

"Sheriff Whitcomb has attached everything about the mills," said Manly, resolved to keep nothing from Mr. Fulton. "I suppose if he says shut down we can't help ourselves."

"I don't know what is at the bottom of all this, but I can see through a sieve, and that is about all that is required to see that this infernal sheriff is bent on ruining this concern. I believe he thinks there is a dollar in doing it."

Mr. Fulton was blunt in his manner, and he showed that he was honest in his convictions at all times. His abrupt words now opened Manly's eyes as some better chosen language might not have done. Was it possible Sheriff Whitcomb was behind a scheme to break down the firm and reap a harvest from the ruin he might make?

"There is something about the situation I do not understand," replied Manly, "and I am afraid matters are hopelessly entangled."

"Stand up for your rights every time, my boy. Nobody else will for you, but you can count on old John Fulton through thick and thin. There comes that sheriff out of your father's private room. What business has he there?"

The same question was on Manly's lips, but he wisely did not give it utterance, while he waited for the officer to come forward.

"I can't make anything out of your father's work," said Mr. Whitcomb, as if the others were to blame for it. "I suppose you know all about it, young man?"

"I know something, sir, about it."

"Of course, you will explain what you know. You see, it is really necessary for us to get something out of it to save ourselves. I find affairs in a worse shape than I had expected. You gave me no inkling of the brink of financial ruin on which the firm stood. My creditors are badly boxed, for as near as I can figure it out the claims will run up over a hundred thousand. I don't suppose the whole plant will bring fifty under the hammer. Hilloa! here is Hildreth! I hope you don't owe him anything."

While speaking Mr. Whitcomb had slowly started back toward the office, until the sight of the newcomer driving into the yard caused him to stop.

Manly recognized this man as one with whom his father had long done business and whom he believed was strictly just in his dealings.

"Good morning," greeted this Mr. Hildreth.

"I hope this bad news isn't as bad as I hear. How is your father, Manly?"

"I hardly know what to tell you, Mr. Hildreth. He is at the house, and though we hope he will soon be out, we are afraid it will be some time before he is able to do anything."

"Sorry, sorry to hear it. What! have you shut down business?"

"Yes," the sheriff hastened to say. "You see," he added, "matters have got into pretty bad shape, and I had to step in to save my creditors. I hope the firm doesn't owe you anything, Hildreth."

The latter, without replying, stepped from his carriage.

"I want to talk with you a moment, Mr. Sterling," he said, "and then I will go over to the house and see your father."

"Come right into the office, Mr. Hildreth," said Manly, leading the way, while Whitcomb and the others followed.

Upon reaching the office they found a man already there who paid no heed to them as they entered.

"Mr. David Hawke, my keeper over the premises," said Mr. Whitcomb.

Mr. Hildreth, without more than glancing toward the man who rose to reply to the introduction, turned to the sheriff, saying:

"It seems to me, Mr. Whitcomb, that you have begun to carry rather a high hand here."

"Doing only what the law allows and justice demands. You see, business has been running at loose ends for a long time, and now the firm is hopelessly involved."

"Sho! I was not aware of it. Its credit has always been good with us."

"Sometimes good credit is an injury to a man —a positive injury. Now, Sterling meant to do right, but his good name allowed him to swamp himself."

"How? I do not understand, Mr. Whitcomb. "

"Why, that invention has swallowed up every dollar he could get hold of. But I have included that in my attachment under a double head, so if there is any money in it my creditors will get something to help them out."

"But that is father's private property, Mr. Whitcomb, and you cannot take that for debts of the firm," said Manly.

"I'll see about that. Nothing is going to be exempted here, not if I know it. Say, Hawke, I thought I ordered those furnace fires to be put out."

"It will raise trouble among the workmen if we do," replied the keeper. "They are like a sleeping volcano, but begin to poke them and they'll break into a fight."

CHAPTER VIII.

"LIKE HIS FATHER."

"Why need work be shut down at all, Mr. Whitcomb?" asked Manly.

"Of course business cannot go on in such a tangle. It will take weeks, perhaps months, to straighten out affairs. Hawke, see that man whom I gave the order to to stop at once, and ask him why I have not been obeyed."

Sheriff Whitcomb spoke loud enough to be heard at a considerable distance, and his speech was followed by a low, but very sharp hiss from those who had gathered in and about the office.

"Mr. Whitcomb, in the interest of yourself and your creditors I hope you will not insist upon this order."

The officer turned sharply upon the youthful speaker, but allowed him to continue:

"Only harm can come of stopping work here at this time. I am sorry any complications have arisen in the affairs, and I do not believe there is any tangle which cannot be fixed in a few days. While it is being done, let the men keep at their work. They need their wages. There are enough orders to keep every furnace going night and day. It is for your creditors' interest work is not stopped."

"So you are running this business, are you, young man?" demanded Whitcomb sharply. "We'll see about this pretty soon."

"It seems to me the boy is right," said Hildreth. "As long as the help can be kept at work, why not do so?"

"Mr. Hildreth, have you any personal interest in this concern?" demanded the sheriff, with a strong accent on the word "personal." "Because if you have you have a right to be heard."

"I don't know as I exactly catch your meaning, Mr. Whitcomb, but I think Hildreth & Hildreth have about as much at stake here as any one."

"Do you mean the firm is owing you, sir?"

"We have a small claim, but we do not propose to crowd too hard, unless the rest drive us to it."

"So they are owing you? Worse and worse. How much is your claim, Mr. Hildeth?"

"I am not prepared to say here, but I will be ready to give a statement at the meeting of the creditors you have warned. Now, it is my advice we let the young man go right on with the business as if nothing had happened."

"In my opinion that shows you haven't much of a claim. But how are you going to keep help which has not been paid? As for myself, I have no money to advance in any such wild-goose undertaking as to put this concern in the hands of a rattle-headed boy."

"Is there a man among you who wants his wages?" asked Manly, in a moment, addressing the workmen who stood about.

"Yes, sir; me!" replied one of the spectators. " And there is Bill here, too."

"How much is due you?" demanded Manly.

"Wage sence Monday morning," was the prompt reply, followed by a chorus of laughs from his companions.

"And that is all?"

"Yes, sir."

By this time Manly's hand had dropped into one of his pockets, and, bringing out his pocket-book, he began to count out the amount of the three days' pay due the man.

"Here it is. You are at liberty, sir, to go your way. Is there any one else here who wants his money?"

This had been done so quickly and unexpectedly that no one replied.

Even the workman who had asked for and received his earnings did not offer to move away, but he stood fumbling the money and looking exceedingly foolish.

" Look a-hyur, Mr. Sterling!" he said, as soon as he could collect himself enough to speak again. "I don't a-want this monish ef you can pay it. I don't want to go away ef John is goin' to stay."

"Every man can stay who wishes; but every man can go away who wishes."

"Spoken just like his father," said a gray-headed veteran of the forges. "If you please, young man, it's work we want now, an' at th' end of th' week monish for our famblies."

"You shall have it as you wish, Joe. Mr. Fulton, I leave the men in your charge. Unless Mr. Whitcomb really objects business and work is going on as if nothing unusual had happened."

Sheriff Whitcomb parted his lips three times to speak, but the words he would speak did not come, and with exclamations of pleasure the workmen started for their respective posts of duty.

"Good for you, Manly Sterling," said Mr. Hildreth. "You are the one to take charge here."

"I should think it was taking considerable authority which don't belong to him," muttered the sheriff. "But of course I don't object. I am only a servant of the law, and what pleases the rest of you suits me, only I warn you the worst of this matter has not come to the surface yet. Keep your eyes open, Hawke, and at the least sign of a riot or anything not down in the plan, let me know. Good day all."

With these words the sheriff left the place.

"Whew! what has come over Whitl" exclaimed Mr. Hildreth. "But I can't stop any longer. If your father is able to see any one, I will run over to the house."

Manly was forced to confess that his father was not in a condition to appreciate a call from any one, when Mr. Hildreth expressed his regrets and hopes of a speedy recovery, while he prepared to go away.

"Well, the most I can say is to keep up good courage. I hope the cloud will soon blow away."

As soon as his visitors had gone Manly began to clear up the office and get things into their proper places, finding this no easy job. As he worked his mind was busy with plans for the future, for he felt that it would not do for him to stop in the undertaking his father had begun.

"To stop here means the loss of all he has got. I must get at the bottom of Leonard Grasp's work and find how the firm is really standing, so as to meet these creditors as best I can."

Manly had requested Mr. Grasp's folks at Greenwich to telegraph him the moment the missing man should appear, if he came home, but the day passed without bringing him any such message. Neither had any trace of him been found elsewhere. Naturally the conviction grew stronger and stronger that Leonard Grasp had purposely fled, and that it would be many a day before he would be seen by those he had left behind.

As heretofore both Manly's father and Mr. Grasp had been in active duty, the one by day and the other by night, it became our hero's first object to find two men to take their places.

He believed he could not do better than to give John Fulton first place for the night watches, and accordingly he called the latter to him and explained fully what he wanted.

"I want you to shift from the day to the night hours because I do not know of a man I can so fully trust. I expect to be here in the daytime myself, but I shall get Kent Knerl to take your place; I mean the situation you have been holding."

"Knerl will be a good man for you," said Fulton. "It will come a little hard for me at first, but I will do anything you ask and do it the best I know. We will keep work humming, or I don't know my trade. Do you find affairs in very bad shape, Manly ? "

"I can't exactly tell you, but it looks as if Grasp had got hold of every dollar he could before he skipped."

There were several callers that afternoon, and a part of them had bills to collect, but Manly found himself in better spirits at the close of the day than he had felt it possible to be. As a rule he was given courteous treatment by those who had hurried to the mills as soon as the flying stories of the disaster had reached them.

Manly had soon found that considerable was due the firm from outstanding bills, but he suspected at the very outset many of these had been collected by Grasp and not been handed in. Just how far this part of the other's peculations had gone only time and investigation could prove.

When he went home that evening he found no change in his father's condition, while his mother was anxious to know how affairs were at the mills.

The following day about noon Manly was somewhat surprised to receive an invitation to meet with the creditors of the firm at two o'clock.

CHAPTER IX.

SHERIFF WHITCOMB'S TRIUMPH.

Manly had been told that the creditors were holding a meeting in the forenoon, but he was at a loss to anticipate the import of this request to meet with them at their adjourned session.

Promptly at two he reached the bank, in the president's room of which he was to meet the others, and he found Mr. Hildreth and Corning already there.

"Glad to see you so prompt," said the former, "for I consider it the very best recommendation a young man can give is to be always on hand. Ah, here come Morgan and Whitcomb. You will soon understand the object of coming here."

Besides the four named, there were soon •present Mr. Cutter of the firm of Cutter, Welch & Co., the holder of the protested check, and a dozen other creditors, representing amounts from ten dollars to five hundred dollars.

It proved that Mr. Morgan had been chosen chairman, and he called the meeting to order with a wave of his fat hand.

This was no sooner done than Sheriff Whitcomb arose, addressing the president:

"Mr. Chairman, I protest against this boys' play. It is infamous. I find the further I carry my investigations the deeper Sterling & Grasp are in the mud. They are hopelessly involved, and every day's delay means less for my clients.

"That's so," declared Corning, moving uneasily on his seat. "I find a mistake in casting the interest on my note, and that there is twenty cents more due me than was calculated this forenoon."

This statement brought a smile to the lips of some of those present, while others showed their contempt for the speaker. Mr. Hildreth next spoke, saying:

"I would like to ask how much Mr. Whitcomb considers he is behind in this matter."

"I can tell you pretty quick, sir. I consider myself responsible for Corning's note of about-eleven hundred, Earning, Dewing & Dunn for some over two thousand, Cutter, Welch & Co. eight hundred, the bank here fifteen hundred and Bronson's check of two hundred. How much does that make, Mr. Hildreth?"

"Between five and six thousand," replied the latter, who had put down the sums mentioned, as soon as he could foot them up. "Even all those, Whitcomb, you will perceive are below the claim of Hildreth & Hildreth, which is over seven thousand dollars. We are the largest claimants against the firm, but my partners or myself do not feel like crowding the concern. Now it was my suggestion that we get the young man who must necessarily carry on the business here and have him give a statement as to what it seems possible for him to do. It is possible by combining our interests and working together that we can pull out of this without losing a dollar. According to your own testimony we cannot expect to get more than fifty cents on a dollar by pressing a settlement."

"Let me have my way, and T believe I can get a little more than I at first concluded. But you must remember that every day's delay adds to the expense of the settlement and shrinks the valuation of the property. My clients are all anxious for a speedy settlement."

"I would like to ask the young man a few questions, if no one objects," said Mr. Hildreth; and none of the others doing so, he continued, addressing Manly:

"How has business been at the iron mills for the past year?"

"Never better, sir, to my knowledge."

"You have known of no falling off during the last six months ?"

"No, sir."

"How do the last three months compare with those immediately preceding?"

"Favorably, sir."

"And you have plenty of work to keep the mills running on full time for quite a spell?"

"For six months I should say, sir. There is an order for fifteen thousand dollars worth of work which we shall be obliged to rush through as fast as possible."

"I should like to ask him," interposed Whitcomb, "how he accounts for the mountain of debts if business has been so good."

"It seems to have come about by Mr. Grasp. He could explain it, and perhaps satisfactorily."

"Pretty bold statement to make, it seems to me. I understand you infer this Grasp has been stealing the firm's funds?"

"I said no such thing, sir."

"But you accuse him of taking the firm's money ?"

" It looks as if he had, sir."

"Didn't your father sign every check and paper issued by the concern?"

"He was supposed to."

"Exactly. And his signature is on all of these notes and papers held by the creditors of the firm."

"Am I on trial, gentlemen?"

"Oh, no," Mr. Hildreth hastened to say. "This is but an informal talk to see what is best to be done. Do you think, Mr. Sterling, the business could be run so as to pay its indebtedness and come out whole?"

"I do, sir."

"How many bills has the firm out to collect, should you say?"

"I should say from the hasty examination I have been able to make the firm has from five thousand to ten thousand dollars due it."

"I should like to ask," again broke in Mr. Whitcomb, "what valuation you put on your father's invention of welding? From the best information I can get, that has been the leak in the concern."

Before Manly could reply one of the bank clerks stuck his head into the room, saying:

"Sheriff Whitcomb is wanted at the door. Some one from Greenwich to see him."

The officer lost no time in answering the summons, and as he left the room Mr. Hildreth said:

"Do you think your father put much money; into his experiments, Mr. Sterling?"

"Not a dollar, sir, of the firm's money."

"I hardly thought so. He considered that individual property?"

"He did, sir."

"How much do you honestly believe the firm is in debt?"

"From fifteen to twenty thousand dollars— possibly a little more. I cannot tell until I know how far Mr. Grasp carried his work."

"Has your father any money to help carry on the business? I mean any personal valuation!"

"No, sir."

"In order to pay any of the creditors, should they demand it, you would have to borrow?"

Again Manly was spared an answer to an embarrassing question by an interruption.

Sheriff Whitcomb returned hurriedly to the room, showing by his looks and manner that he was not only excited but exultant, as he cried:

"Well, this winds up the concern if nothing else does. I have just had a claim put in my hands for twenty-five thousand dollars, which is secured by a mortgage and seized by the creditors of Matthew Grasp. It seems this Grasp has been embezzling to an enormous, amount, and if Sterling & Grasp ain't under water now I miss my guess."

A long, painful silence followed the startling, triumphant announcement, while Manly felt that this was the avalanche to crush him.

CHAPTER X.

ME. WHITCOMB MAKES AN OFFER.

"You speak in riddles, Whitcomb," said Mr. Hildreth, the first to break the silence.

"There are none so hard to understand as those who don't want to," replied the officer sharply. "It proves that if Leonard Grasp is a rascal he has come legitimately by his dishonesty, if there is anything in heredity. His father has proved to be the bigger thief, for he has embezzled money to more than fifty thousand dollars. It also proves, and we were blind not to have found it out, that Matthew Grasp had loaned Sterling and his son money to carry on this business and secured himself by a mortgage on the mills. Now the creditors of Matthew Grasp have ordered me to seize everything here, as they believe they can hold even more than the mortgage holds, as Leonard Grasp's interests were his father's."

"Preposterous!" exclaimed Mr. Hildreth. "It looks as if you were bent on ruining the prospects of the boy."

"I should think you would give him your claim, Hildreth, you are so friendly toward him. But we have got to do our duty without regard to sentiment. Of course I am sorry for Sterling, but this Grasp has only been caught in his own toils."

"It seems to me he is far from being caught. But this is not the point for us to consider now. What we want to decide is the best course for us to pursue."

"Exactly. The rest of you can talk the matter over to your satisfaction. I must see that the proper papers are served at once."

"Very true. You say this claim is secured by a mortgage ?"

"Yes, sir."

"Look here, Whitcomb," interposed Mr. Corning, catching the sheriff by the sleeve as he rose to depart, "I hope you aren't going to do anything to jeopardize my interest. You know I was the first man to move in this matter, and, of course, I am to get the first money paid back."

"You will have to take your chances with the rest," replied the officer, as he left the room, the distracted Corning following him.

"Well, this is a pretty mess of fish," declared Mr. Bronson. "It begins to look so we shouldn't get much out of it. At any rate, I will take twenty-five cents on a dollar for my claim."

"Don't say anything rash, gentlemen," said Mr. Hildreth. "I allow it looks pretty dark, but it is for our interest to move carefully. I for one am in favor of letting the business go on, only see that everything is run for the best."

"I think we can stand it if you can, Hildreth," said Mr. Earning.

" So can we,'' said Mr. Cutter.

"We certainly cannot," replied Mr. Morgan.

"I shall move for active process. Whitcomb is charged to look after our interest."

Mr. Bronson was equally as anxious to have proceedings go on.

"We know pretty well how Corning feels," declared Hildreth. "But these gentlemen", with smaller claims, seem willing to be lenient."

"We want to do what is best for all concerned," they acknowledged.

"That is just what we want to do," said Mr. Hildreth. "Now you are all made as secure as you can be, and a short delay cannot injure your prospects, particularly while the mills are kept running. I move we give the boy a few days' respite, during which I have no doubt he will be able to fix the matter up so as to run along easily."

The majority of the creditors voting in favor of this the meeting then dissolved.
As soon as the others began to leave Mr. Hildreth motioned for Manly to come with him, saying as soon as they were alone:

"How much money do you think you must have to keep on?"

"Ten thousand dollars, but I do not know where I can raise a cent of it."

"I am glad you have set your estimate so high, for it shows you realize your situation."

"A portion of these creditors have got to be paid in order to continue without trouble."

"You are right. You have got to pay up Corning, Bronson and Morgan, sure. That will take about three thousand, while there will be others to swell it to five thousand. Now I think I know where you can get the money. At any rate it will do no harm to try, and I will go and see them with you this evening."

With this encouragement Manly returned to the mills, finding the sheriff still there in consultation with his keeper.

Corning was also there, looking more anxious than ever.

"You have been a long time coming," greeted Mr. Whitcomb. "I am waiting to have you show me what you can about this process of welding your father was at work on. I think I know of a man who can finish it to perfection."

"That was father's private matter, Mr. Whitcomb, and I do not wish to meddle with it."

"The bigger fool you are then. But it is virtually in my hands now and I demand that you show it to me."

"I feel obliged to refuse you, Mr. Whitcomb, for the reason given."

"Defy me, do you? Seems to me you show pretty poor judgment if you want to keep affairs running along smoothly. Come out here a moment," motioning for Manly to follow him aside from the others.

As soon as they were beyond hearing of the others, he said:

"What is everybody's business is nobody's business. The fact is I have a proposition to make to you in good faith. It is possible with plenty of capital and the right man behind it something can be made out of that process of your father's, but it is worth nothing to you. Now, I am willing to do this to help you out of an awkward situation: Put that little matter into my hands and I will fix it with your creditors SO' they will not bother you."

Manly could not help showing his surprise at this offer, and the sheriff hastened to say:

"You don't think I can do this. But I assure you I have unbounded power over them. If I say the word they will let you alone until you can bridge over this difficulty. Is it a bargain! Please remember the scheme of your father's is worth nothing to you."

"If it is worth nothing to me, Mr. Whitcomb, then it is worth no more to you. Father spent many anxious hours over it and I do not care to throw it away."

"Call it throwing it away, do you?" asked the sheriff, showing anger. "I supposed you would jump at the chance."

"That is where you are mistaken, sir. I prefer to keep the process in my hands."

"Your hands! You seem to forget it has already passed out of your hands. You seem to forget the ruin and disaster which lies at your feet. I can hold you back from it if you say the word."

"I forget nothing, Mr. Whitcomb, and while I wish to thank you for what you may be able to do for me, I shall be more grateful if you will do what you can for me."

Sheriff Whitcomb turned away without replying, and seeing Kent Knerl, the new foreman, signaling to him, Manly entered the mills at once.

CHAPTER XI

THE MESSAGE FROM GREENWICH.

"I only wanted to put a flea in your ear," said the foreman, as Manly joined him. "That man Hawke is just poking his nose into everything, and he had the audacity to ask for the key to the shop where your father's kit is. I didn't believe you wanted him there, and I would not have let him get in anyway. I don't like that feller."

"Nor I either, Kent. You did right in not allowing him to enter father's workshop, and I am glad I had that door fixed up this afternoon. I must see that it is more securely locked."

Manly could not help thinking of Mr. Whitcomb's eagerness to get his father's invention into his possession.

"It shows he considers it is worth something, and I must guard it with unceasing care. As soon as I can get into easier circumstances I will see if I cannot finish what poor father has been obliged to drop."

It was hard for him to concentrate his mind on a hopeful relief from the network of difficulty and financial disaster. When he went home to his supper he told his mother of the mortgage of Matthew Grasp, to find her less surprised than he had expected.

"I knew your father and Leonard had borrowed money of Leonard's father, and I do not doubt the justice of the claim. Your father had very little money with which to start business, and his object in taking in Leonard was the mpney the latter could get. Mr. Matthew Grasp always seemed to be so honest I cannot realize that he was so wicked at heart. I pity poor Mrs. Grasp."

" So do I, mother. How selfish it has been of me not to have thought of any one else in our misfortune. At any rate, no one. can call a Sterling dishonest. They never shall have that reason."

"Nobly spoken, my son. Adversity can bring1 no disgrace as long as you look it squarely in the face with an honest heart."

"Father has shown no signs of getting better?" asked Manly, showing by the way he had asked his question he anticipated the reply.

"No change, Manly. He has sat there all day in his chair, never speaking, looking out of the window, not even looking up to see what I was doing. It is so strange, so hard to bear."

"Let us hope it won't be for a very long time, mother. There, I promised to meet Mr. Hildreth at the postoffice, as he is going with me to try and hire some money."

"I am sorry you are obliged to do this, but you know what is best to be done. I have heard your father speak very highly of Mr. Hildreth. They were schoolmates together and great friends in their boyhood. There, I will not keep you longer."

Though they possessed a melancholy interest, Manly always felt better for his talks with his mother and better fitted to cope with the trying scenes surrounding his young life.

He reached the postoffice at the same time as Mr. Hildreth, when they started at once to see the man whom they were hoping might lend his financial assistance in this hour of trouble.

"If we had the money we would gladly let you have it," said Mr. Hildreth, as they walked along together, "but if the truth be told we have got to borrow to get along ourselves."

Though his friend had been too thoughtful to say so, Manly understood that the other was making a sacrifice of which he had not before dreamed in not getting the money due him from Sterling & Grasp.

"If I can get hold of any money I must try and pay him a part," he thought.

But if Mr. Hildreth had had his hopes of hiring ten thousand dollars those hopes were destined to be speedily lost, for their request was met with a firm refusal.

"Short ourselves," said the first man they called on. "Sorry, Hildreth, as I would like to help your young friend, who seems like an honest and deserving youth."

"Well, we must try again," said the latter, trying not to show his disappointment.

But when they had seen three men without getting any encouragement, he declared:

"I didn't dream of this, Manly. I thought Gilpin was sure to let us have it. No doubt he has it, but it is generally the way; when we want assistance most it is hardest to find it. This is as far as we can go now, and we shall have to watch and wait. We may find some one yet."

"Perhaps I had better see to-morrow if I cannot collect some of that money which is due us."

"It will do no harm, though Whitcomb will not let any you get of it remain in your hands. Still, if you can get the promise of some it will enable you to pay off such creditors as Corning. It is unfortunate you have such a man as the sheriff to deal with."

Manly felt the truth of this statement, while he at the same time felt that he was fortunate to have such a friend as Mr. Hildreth.

The following day Manly carried out his resolution to see what he could learn of the chances of getting some of the money due the firm, but everywhere he was met by the same answer.

Leonard Grasp had already collected every dollar that was available. But not a cent of this had he turned over to the company. As he had been bookkeeper it had been easier for him to conceal what he had done.

Manly was now enabled to estimate that the missing member of the firm had in this way defrauded the company out of over six thousand dollars.

The startling fact now stared him in the face that they could not hope to get a dollar where they had looked for so much to help meet the indebtedness of the firm.

A less brave youth must have lost courage now, if not before, and have given up the fight.

"It means complete ruin to father," he said to his mother that evening. "Whitcomb seems to have it all in his hands, even to father's invention. I am sure that is worth many thousand dollars if it can be perfected, and what is of still greater account it means the restoration of father's health. Mother, I must—I cannot fail to carry this undertaking through."

"I hope you will succeed, my son, I hope so, but I fear for the result. Everything seems against you."

Manly had expected to see Mr. Hildreth during the day, but to his disappointment the other did not come near the mills.

The next morning he found Whitcomb already at the office when he got there, though he had left home early. The sheriff showed by his looks that he was in good humor, and after nodding to the young master of the iron mills he said:

"I presume you have heard the news, young man. Your friend Hildreth is taking a dose of the same kind of medicine the physician of fortune is administering to you."

"I do not understand you, sir."

"Perhaps you do not want to. It is simply that Hildreth & Hildreth are under a cloud. They have failed!"

Mr. Whitcomb knew no bit of news he could have told would have given Manly much greater pain, and he smiled as our hero showed by his looks the effect of the announcement.

"I cannot think they are very deeply involved, sir. They have been considered sound by every one."

"So was Sterling & Grasp, until the truth became known. You can never tell the real condition of a firm by the appearance on the surface of their transactions any more than you can a person's health by the amount of flesh on his bones."

Manly did not care to continue the conversation, which had only, bitter fruit for him. He felt sorry for Mr. Hildreth, but he could not help wondering what effect his failure was to have on him.

"That seven thousand dollars will have to be paid as soon as any," he thought. He was arrested from further conclusions by the appearance of Curly, who looked excited.

"I want to see you," whispered the boy, "but they mustn't know I am with you. I will meet you down by the lower forge as soon as you can come."

Without stopping for Manly's reply Curly darted away, and mystified over his action, our hero followed him- as quickly as he felt it policy. He found Curly anxiously awaiting him, and at once he thrust a piece of paper into Manly's hand, which did not require a second glance to show that it was a telegram directed to him.

He saw that it was dated at Greenwich, and was a request from Mrs. Matthew Grasp to call at her home as soon as possible, on important business.

"It's yours, ain't it?" asked Curly, eagerly. "I couldn't read it very well, but I knew from what he said it was for you, though Hawke said he would take it."

"How came you by it?"

"I hope I did right, but—but I took it out of Hawke's pocket to his coat. You see, he didn't intend to let you know it had come. I hope I have done you a good turn. I meant to, sir."

Feeling that the end justified the means, Manly thanked Curly for what he had done, feeling more than ever the utter lack of honor possessed by the men who were working against him.

"I mean to keep on the watch for you all the time," said Curly, showing that he appreciated the kind words. "I overheard them say yesterday they were going to put you under. I suppose you know what it all means, but I don't."

Not knowing what Mrs. Grasp's object could be in sending for him to come to Greenwich, he felt that it was his duty to go, as much as he disliked to leave. So he hastened home to change his clothes and get ready for the journey upon which was depending more than he dreamed. Could he have foreseen the result he must have stood aghast.

CHAPTER XII.

FOR THE SAKE OF A HORSE.

Before leaving Orecroft Manly saw Kent Knerl, to tell of his enforced absence for the day, and warned him to keep a sharp lookout over affairs. Also to be sure and see Mr. Hildreth if he should call while he was gone.

After an uneventful ride to Greenwich, upon reaching that city Manly lost no time in starting toward the fine residence of the late Matthew Grasp, feeling more anxious to know what this sudden visit meant to him as he drew nearer and nearer his destination.

Affairs of slight moment in themselves-alone —little incidents which seem to have no connection with the real purpose in our lives often entirely change the objects and the results for which we are striving. Thus a very small matter, speaking of itself, delayed indefinitely Manly's visit to the Grasp home, if its results were not to portend more.

As he was hurrying along one of the less traveled streets leading toward the heart of the city his attention was arrested by seeing a crowd of people blocking the way at one place.

In his state of mind he would have gladly kept on his course without paying any heed to the scene had he been able to push his way through the crowd.

He did manage to get near enough to find that the cause of all the commotion and suppressed excitement was the inhuman treatment of a driver of a horse hitched to a job team loaded with boxes. The animal, it appeared, had refused to draw its big load further, and having settled back upon its haunches was stubbornly receiving the furious blows of its master with a stolid indifference.

"I'll kill you!" yelled the infuriated driver, "but you shall pull this load. Not a box will I throw off."

A faint cheer from some of the spectators encouraged the excited man to renew his blows from a heavy whip with increased fury.

This served to cause the suffering horse, which must have been a very sensitive creature in spite of its present stubbornness, to rise upon its hind legs, and then to throw itself backward until the rear wheels stood in the gutter. But not a step would the wounded animal advance.

Finding himself defied and defeated in that direction, the hard-hearted man leaped to the ground, and, going in front of the horse and shaking the butt of the deadly whip in front of the bewildered horse, shouted hoarsely:

"You'll take this load out of here or you'll never leave these tracks alive!"

He supplemented this speech with a string of oaths, and raised the whip for the blow he intended should fell the horse upon its knees. It seemed strange there was no man in that crowd to interfere, but one and all seemed bound by the horrible fascination of the spell, or through fear of the brutal wretch.

But if there was not a man with the moral courage to stay his mad stroke, Manly Sterling was unable to stand a mute spectator of the cruel assault.

A sharp scream of pain from a girlish voice somewhere in the midst of the crowd may have lent him impetus to spring forward and attempt to stop the inhuman proceeding. At any rate, before the fearful instrument of torture could descend he had sprung to the man's side, and, seizing the uplifted whip in one hand, cried :

"Stop, sir! You shall not abuse that poor horse in that way!"

Amazed at this interference, the driver wheeled about to face the newcomer. Finding him but a youth, his presence of mind, as well as his courage, quickly returned, and, snatching the whip from his hold, exclaimed:

"Get out of the way, or I'll lam you worser I hev the hoss!"

Showing no alarm, Manly replied:

"Strike if you wish, but you shall not give that poor horse another blow."

Then the spectators suddenly recovered their true sentiments, and a hearty cheer of admiration for the brave boy rang on the air. The man saw that he had suddenly lost sympathy with the crowd, and the sight of the undaunted youth quietly facing him caused him to quickly change his tactics, and he said sullenly:

"Mebbe you can make thet hoss pull that load, but I reckon your temper wouldn't be any better'n mine if you'd fooled with 'im all the morning."

"You have overloaded him," replied Manly, beginning to stroke the creature's head. "He looks like a fine animal, but he should be treated kindly. Kind words are better than blows always."

While speaking he continued to pat the creature and to run his hand over its head and neck, oven rubbing its forelegs and smoothing the coat on its body. When he had done this for a short time he took hold of its bit and urged the horse to start.

The change which had come over it seemed remarkable. Its whole demeanor had suddenly changed, and at its youthful master's words it sprang to its work, struggling for all it could in its efforts to move the load. Three times the noble creature slipped and sank upon its knees, to rally each occasion to put still greater effort into its task, until the heavy wheels began to roll out of the gutter, and trembling in every limb the horse gained the middle of the street, when Manly allowed it to stop and rest. Cheering louder than ever, the spectators immediately began to disperse, feeling that they had no further interest in the scene. But the strangest part was yet to come.

CHAPTER XIII.

A BOLD BEQUEST.

The trembling horse had barely come to a standstill, and, panting for breath, stood with bowed head seeking Manly's caresses, when its driver stepped forward, saying:

"Thank you, sir. I'll 'low the critter pulled well, an' I'll take him in hand now."

"Hold on, Mike!" exclaimed a man who had pushed himself forward from out of the crowd, leading a girl a dozen years old by the hand. "You will never have another chance to use that whip of yours on this horse while I own him. Call at my office and get the pay due you and find employment elsewhere. The man who abuses a dumb creature as you do can not work for me."

The man moved back, exclaiming:

"I should like to see the man who can handle him enny better, Mr. Steele."

" We won't have any words over the matter, Mike. I saw enough of your methods of managing a horse to show that you are not the kind of a driver I wish to employ. I was trying to get to you when this brave boy interfered. Go."

Without further words the discomfited man slunk away, while the gentleman, whom Manly saw was well-dressed and evidently a person of wealth and consequence, turned to him, saying:

"Young man, I wish to thank you for your kindly interference, and I assure you I appreciate your favor. Now if you will kindly drive the horse up in front of my office I will reward you handsomely. Here is my card."

Without waiting for Manly's reply the gentleman hastened away, still leading his little daughter by the hand. Somewhat puzzled by this action, our hero glanced at the bit of pasteboard to find engraved thereon:

"Rollin Steele, banker, 801 Main St., Greenwich."

In a moment Manly recalled all he had heard of this great railroad man and millionaire, with business interests all over the country, and a power wherever his interests were directed, and whose wonderful rise from a poor, bare-footed country boy up to his present position was like some story from the "Arabian Nights."

Under the circumstances he could do no better than to drive the team to his place of business, as he had been requested, so he started at once.

Mr. Eollin Steele's office proved in closer proximity than Manly had expected, so in a few minutes he found himself in front of the elegant granite block, all of which was utilized for his extended and varied business professional ventures, for this millionaire was possessed of wonderfully versatile gifts.

He was standing in the main doorway as Manly drove up, and he invited him in.

"I will send a man to look after the horse. I wish to speak with you just a moment."

As Manly jumped down from the high seat he saw an announcement over the door that was destined to change his whole course of action. The line read:

"Money in small and large amounts loaned here."

"I won't detain you but a moment, young man," said Mr. Steele, as he led the way into his private office, his daughter still with him. "It is so seldom I witness such a manly act as you have done to-day that I feel I should do you an injustice if I did not render some slight token of the service you did me by defending one of my horses. I never believed in the abuse of a dumb brute. Please be seated a moment."

Manly could do no better than obey, while the other turned to his desk and began to write.

"Let's see, your name, young man?"

"Manly Sterling, sir."

"That has the right ring," resuming his writing.

"I suppose you heard me scream," said the little girl, as if anxious to open a conversation on her part. "I do hate to see a poor horse whipped in that way, and I was afraid Mike was going to strike you. Weren't you afraid?"

It seemed to Manly he had never seen such a pretty, demure miss as the fair speaker, and he hesitated in his reply, Mr. Steele saying in the midst of it:

"Here, please accept this, with my thanks. If you ever want a favor, do not hesitate to come to me."

As he spoke he held out a check to Manly, which the latter saw at a glance was for one hundred dollars. But, his countenance swiftly changing color, he managed to stammer:

"I thank you, Mr. Steele, but I do not wish to take it. The taking of money for such a simple act of duty would seem to cheapen it."

He had scarcely spoken when Mr. Steele tore the check in twain, and threw the pieces into the waste basket.

"Why, papa!" exclaimed his daughter, with a look of wonder, "what made you do that? Perhaps he would have taken it if you had urged him."

"I don't want to urge any one to break a good resolution, Bertie. That was the noblest speech I ever heard, and I don't want to think it might have been broken. Give me your hand, Manly Sterling."

Somewhat taken aback by this impulsive treatment, Manly extended his right hand, which was clasped in a firm hold, while the banker said:

"I believe in first impulses and first impressions. They have always served me well. You don't look like a fellow who would drive a team for a living or I would offer you a situation in place of the man I have just turned off. But if there is any favor I can do for you, do not be afraid to ask. It is the bold and aggressive that win."

Though this speech was made in a frank and generous spirit, which was shown by the manner as well as the words of the speaker, it placed Manly in a trying situation, for he had no designs upon the other's favor. And he was about to say so, when the announcement he had read over the door flashed through his mind— "Money in small and large amounts loaned here." Perhaps this was his golden opportunity. Should he improve it or let it pass on account of the delicacy of the situation?

Manly Sterling hesitated but a moment before he broke the embarrassing suspense by saying:

"I neither ask nor expect reward for what I have done to-day; neither do I intend to take any advantage of your great generosity, but in the matter of business there is a favor you can do me."

He was surprised at his calmness, once he had begun to speak, and he paused to note the effect of his words on the other, who quickly said:

"Name any favor you wish, Mr. Sterling."

"It is the favor of a loan of ten thousand dollars."

No sooner had he uttered the fateful request than he wished it unsaid. In a moment the whole demeanor of Mr. Steele underwent a change, and in place of the kindly, benevolent and humane gentleman of the instant before, stood before him the cold, calculating man of millions who knew no personal feeling which could compromise with his unswerving purpose, looking him sternly in the countenance.

CHAPTER XIV.

MR. STEELE's REPLY.

"Why, papa, what has happened?" cried little Bertie Steele, who was the first to break the unhappy silence. "What makes you look so dreadful! You aren't mad with this noble boy, are you!"

Mr. Steele's countenance relaxed a trifle, as he gently took his little daughter upon his knee, while he said to Manly:

"Pardon me, young man, but it is possible I did not understand you."

"Excuse me, sir, but the notice over the door of money to lend made me overbold perhaps in asking you for a loan of ten thousand dollars. I am in need of that amount just now."

"That may be, but it is rather unusual for a boy to come in here and without any recommendation ask for so large an amount. What security have you to offer?"

Manly was forced to hesitate here, for he knew only too well that he had no first-class security to offer. He said, or began to say:

"If you know Mr. Hildreth of the firm of Hildreth&-"

"I know him too well! He is not now good for one dollar, though last week I would have been glad to have taken his name for twice the amount you named. Let me see, who are you anyway?"

"My father is Henry Sterling, and he lives at Orecroft."

"Ah, I see! Senior member of the firm of Sterling & Grasp, ironmongers, but now gone to the wall. Those Grasps were enough to run any man under. I got pinched a little by the old man. Sheriff Whitcomb described the situation of the concern to me only yesterday. Said he thought he should get possession in a few days. Seemed to think there was a patent partly perfected which might prove valuable some time. Whitcomb is a pretty sharp fellow. I understand the creditors are not going to get more than twenty-five cents."

"They won't, sir, under Mr. Whitcomb's management, I assure you."

"So you don't like Mr. Whitcomb? That is natural, I suppose; a sheriff isn't apt to make any friends. I am glad to have met you, Mr. Sterling, and I hope you will come out all right."

At this point the banker turned back to examining his papers and Manly understood as well as if he had been told in so many words that the interview was at an end. He realized, too, that Mr. Whitcomb had prejudiced Mr. Steele against anything he might say. He would have left the office without saying anything more than "Good day, sir," had not Bertie rushed impetuously to his side, and catching him by the hand, exclaimed:

"Don't go until I have spoken to papa, please."

He found it hard to refuse so winsome a request, and while he stood a silent spectator, she flitted to her father, and throwing her arms around his neck, said:

"I think you are real naughty, papa, there! He seems so honest and he was so good to not let Mike heat Charley."

"Tut—tut, Bertie! that is all well enough as far as it goes: But your little head can't see the line hetween business and sentiment. I shall have to send you home if you are going to bother me with your childish notions."

"Papa, couldn't you give him ten thousand dollars and not miss it ?"

"That isn't a business question at all, my little teaser. But I might as well let you tell your story, Mr. Sterling, as to let the little girl occupy my spare time. I can give you fifteen minutes to say what you wish."

"I won't detain you as long as that, Mr. Steele, and I wish to thank you for your kindness."

Then, in a few well chosen words, Manly told his story regarding the situation at Orecroft, without trying to make it appear any better than it was.

"I must say, Mr. Sterling," said the banker, when he had finished, "that if you are as honest as you are frank and bold I would not hesitate to trust you. "What did your father do before he started in the iron business, for as I understand you he has not been long in that."

"Less than five years, sir. Before that he was a brick-maker."

"He had great faith in his invention you think? Of course I need not ask that question, for all inventors are confident of grasping a fortune. Is it really near completion?"

"It is, Mr. Steele."

"Do you think you could finish it?"

"I do, sir. Or if father should get well he could certainly."

"You say this does not belong to the firm?"

"It does not, though Mr. Whitcomb claims that it does."

"I understand. But, if I understand, unless you can clear Matthew Grasp's creditors you are going to lose. However, I wouldn't advise you to give it up without a fight. There it is again. It takes money to fight money. If you had ten thousand dollars what would you do with it?"

"I should pay those creditors who are clamoring for their money, keeping enough to run the business with until I could get off the big contract on hand."

"Exactly. That might work if Hildreth was on his feet. As it is, I do not see as it would help you a particle. The fact is, according to your words, you have got to clear about twenty-five thousand dollars at once, and as much more at the end of the year, and you can't offer any security that is worth a snap of the finger. Isn't that about so ?"

"In some respects, sir. But the stock is paid for to fill this contract for fifteen thousand dollars, and I calculate to clear at least ten thousand dollars on that, which, with the amount I want to borrow, will nearly pay the claims now due against the company, and I shall have nine months left before the mortgage becomes due to get something toward that. I can certainly pay the ten thousand dollars I have hired. The property is good security to raise the money to pay up the Grasp claim. I don't want to hire this money for less than a year."

"You get at it like an old hand. I suppose you have this invention in your mind all the time?"

"I am very confident, sir, that inside of six months I will have that so it will be in shape to command a price. If it is the success I believe it is going to be, it will soon pay every dollar of indebtedness against Sterling & Grasp and a handsome income for years to come. But I do not speak of this because I am depending on it to help me out of this trouble. I base every calculation on making the mills lift the burden."

"I like the way you size it up, but it is a big burden for a boy to lift. I don't want to dismiss you hastily, for your candor has deserved my consideration. I don't think it would be a business-like policy for me to let you have the money to-day. If I conclude to let you have it I will telegraph you at Orecroft to-morrow at six o 'clock in the afternoon. Meanwhile, if you can find any one to let you have it, don't let the opportunity pass. Good day, Mr. Sterling."

CHAPTER XV.

A CRISIS IN AFFAIRS.

Feeling perhaps more than ever the hopelessness of his situation, Manly went out of the banker's office and hastened toward the home of the late Matthew Grasp.

He had never met Mrs. Grasp before, but he found her very pleasant, though nearly heartbroken over her recent afflictions. She had heard nothing from Leonard, and anxiously questioned Manly in regard to her son's defalcations.

"I am sorry for your father, who is a good man, and I am sorry for you, as well as for myself and Leonard and all. It seems like a horrible dream, and I cannot think but that my son will come home yet and make it all right. It was not my teachings which caused him to do this. I am very glad you have so kindly come to see me, and I hope you will come often. Keep me posted, and if there is anything I can do I will do it."

So Manly's visit to Greenwich was of no apparent good, and he could not help regretting that he had lost so much time at home which meant so much to him.

Just how much he did not realize until he had reached the mills, which he did a little before night, to find a half dozen men gathered about the office and talking in an animated manner.

Sheriff Whitcomb was among them, and Manly heard his loud voice saying:

"It is the only course you can pursue, Hawke, and I authorize you to go ahead and discharge the man. Perhaps that will bring him to his senses."

"I shall appeal to Mr. Sterling as soon as— hilloa! Here he is now!" It was Kent Knerl speaking, showing by his manner that he was laboring under great excitement.

"Manly Sterling, you haven't come any too soon. These shameless robbers have been playing a high hand since you went away."

"What is it, Kent ?"

"They have discharged me!"

"Discharged you? For what reason and under what authority?"

"For disobedience of duty, young man," Whitcomb hastened to say, "and under my orders. If I am not boss here I should like to know who is."

"But you promised to give me time to fix up affairs so they could be run—"

"Fudge! an agreement made with a minor is of no consequence. Beside, what utter nonsense it is to fool away time and money with you when you know yourself you can not spin a thread. I have discharged this sniveling fool and I—"

"Be careful what you say, Clint Whitcomb!" broke in Knerl, who was trembling from head to foot, "or I shall forget that you are an officer. I can stand honorable treatment, but the worm will turn when— "

"Hush, Kent," interposed Manly, who could see that the sheriff was exulting over the outbreak he had aroused, and was only waiting for an excuse to resort to violent measures.

Unobserved by any of the little crowd of spectators in their excitement, a newcomer had appeared upon the scene, and stood listening to the animated, angry remarks, until a lull in the sharp conversation allowed him to say:

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I am anxious to see the master of Orecroft iron mills, if he is handy."

With one accord every person turned an inquisitive gaze upon the speaker, who proved to be a stranger to all. He was a man of forty years of age, with clear-cut features, blue eyes, a skin browned by long work over the forges and furnaces of an iron mill, and a figure of medium size, but well knit and compactly built in every joint. In short, he looked like one who was not to be easily deterred from his purpose. He wore the plain suit of a workman, and its liberal coating of grease and grime showed that it had seen the best part of its service.

"I am an iron worker," he continued, as the others hesitated to speak, "and I am looking for a job. I have good recommendations with me," pulling a soiled sheet of paper from an inner pocket as he finished speaking.

"I calculate I am as much master here as any one," declared Whitcomb. "Who are you ?"

"I am iron by trade, iron by business, iron by nature and iron by name—Nathan Irons, sir, at your service."

"Pig iron, I should say," said Whitcomb with a laugh. "I have just been turning off help instead of hiring."

"I might take his place, sir," replied Irons, respectfully.

"Ha, ha! that's a good one. This man was boss over the entire works, Mr. Nathan Irons."

"I don't doubt it, sir. I have been boss where there have been more hands than you can possibly employ here. Is your name Sterling?"

"I hope not. No, sir; I am Sheriff Whitcomb, Mr. Irons."

"Why I asked," said Mr. Irons, showing no surprise at the officer's words, "was from the fact that I was told to inquire for Manly Sterling, being master of the mills."

"That youngster standing there is Mr. Sterling," replied the sheriff. "As to his being master, that is passed. If you want to go to work, step this way, so I can talk with you alone."

Mr. Irons obeyed, and he was in close conversation with the sheriff for fully half an hour. At the end of that time they rejoined the crowd, Sheriff Whitcomb saying to his keeper:

"I am pleased with Mr. Irons, and I have concluded to put him in charge to look after the men. If you find anything about him you do not like, report to me. You can begin your duties to-morrow, Mr. Irons."

For the first time, then, Mr. Irons, the new boss, spoke to our hero.

"Mr. Whitcomb has explained the situation to me, Mr. Sterling, and I trust this arrangement will be agreeable to you."

Feeling that for the time he had been outgeneraled, Manly said:

"I shall not object now, but if I bring about the adjustment of affairs as I expect, I shall not consider myself bound to retain you unless I think best."

"That's fair. I shall endeavor to make myself so useful that you will want me permanently."

Manly was forced to confess that evening to his mother that he had lost ground during the day. He felt the loss of Kent Knerl more than he cared to show, but he seemed powerless to help himself.

"There is one thing certain: I can do nothing effectual until I get some money. Where I am going to get that I cannot tell. To-morrow is the last day of grace with me, and what makes it worse it is Saturday."

"Mr. Steele was to let you know his decision to-morrow, I think you said."

"Not until six o'clock. It won't do for me to depend upon him. If Whitcomb would only let me keep the mills running I believe I could get a foothold. It is singular Mr. Hildreth has not been near me for two days."

The next day, one that Manly has never forgotten on account of the great crisis in affairs that it brought, found Nathan Irons, the new boss, promptly on hand, and he entered upon his duties with what seemed a good understanding of his situation.

He spoke quite friendly to Manly, but declared that certain changes were needed in order to get the best results, both as to quality and quantity of work.

Sheriff Whitcomb was also early at the mills, closeted with keeper Hawke.

The day dragged without any material change in the situation. Manly made no further attempt to borrow money, for there was no one he knew to ask. In the afternoon he got a short letter from Mr. Hildreth, which expressed regret at his inability to come and see him, but hoped he would be able to do so the first of the week.

Whitcomb seemed very much pleased with the new boss, and spent half of the afternoon with him consulting on one matter or another.

Mr. Fulton came to the mills half an hour before his time to take charge for the night, when Sheriff Whitcomb motioned for him and Manly to come into the office.

As Manly obeyed he saw Corning and two or three others drive into the yard. He felt that the crisis was near at hand.

"Well, Mr. Sterling," began the officer, in his pompous, arrogant way, "the time you asked for is up. I would like to know if you are prepared to meet your creditors as you promised."

"Why need you ask that question, Mr. Whitcomb, when you know my situation? If you will only give me reasonable time I am sure— "

"Do you take me for a fool, young man? I have parleyed with you beyond all reason. Either pay up your creditors, as you agreed, before six o 'clock, or I shall see that these mills are shut down at midnight."

The sheriff had barely finished speaking before the town clock began to strike the hour of six. As the last sound died away Whitcomb exclaimed exultantly:

"That clears my skirts. Look here, Fulton, when the clock strikes twelve to-night do you see that every furnace fire is banked and all work is suspended. Business at Orecroft iron mills is over, until new hands are at the helm. Keep a sharp lookout here, David, but you need not bother about looking after Sterling's private rooms,as I have ordered an extra man on duty there. I must leave you for a little while."

CHAPTER XVI.

MANLY FINDS HIMSELF WITH MILLIONAIRES.

As Sheriff Whitcomb turned to leave, the place Manly felt a hand laid lightly on his shoulder, and heard a voice whisper in his ear:

"Some one outside wants to see you at once."

Thus, instead of replying to the officer, as he had intended to at first, the young master of the iron mills looked around to find Nathan Irons beside him.

"He says he cannot wait," said the new boss in a low tone. "I did not ask him his name, but you had better not keep him waiting. You can't mend matters by arguing with the sheriff."

Manly realized this, and, wondering who it was wishing to see him, he pushed his way through the crowd and left the building.

Mr. Whitcomb was unhitching his horse and preparing to ride away, though our hero did not give him a second glance, as he saw another carriage drawn up a short distance away. He recognized the team as belonging to one of the local liverymen, but the occupant of the vehicle was not seen plainly enough to be recognized.

Anticipating that he was the one desiring to see him, Manly went that way, saying as he approached the carriage:

"Are you the gentleman who wishes to speak to me, sir?"

"Certainly, Mr. Sterling; jump right in here. I suppose you are surprised to see me here, but I had a little matter I wanted to see Mr. Morgan about, so I thought I would see you at the same trip."

Manly's astonishment may be imagined at finding himself in the presence of Rollin Steele, the millionaire banker.

In an instant the thought flashed through his mind:

"He is going to let me have the money!"

Murmuring his thanks and pleasure at meeting him. thus unexpectedly, Manly took a seat beside the other, who immediately drove away in front of the sheriff. Not recognizing Mr. Steele, Mr. Whitcomb must have been very much surprised and puzzled to know who he was and what Manly's departure with him meant. "How are you getting along!" asked Mr. Steele.

"There is no light,sir. Sheriff Whitcomb has just ordered the mills to be shut down at midnight."

"As soon as that. Didn't he promise Hildreth to wait until Monday?"

"To-morrow being Sunday I suppose he acted sooner."

"I see. I take it that is Whitcomb behind us?":

"Yes, sir."

"I hope he did not recognize me. In fact, I didn't care for any one about the premises to know me, so I asked the first person I saw to send you out. I telegraphed to Morgan to meet me at his office,this evening, and we will go there at once."

"I think you are very kind, Mr. Steele," said Manly, not daring yet to broach the subject uppermost in his mind.

As they approached the bank it became evident that the sheriff was endeavoring to keep sight of them, though of course it may have been purely an accident that he left his homeward direction to follow them.

"Well, I am not ashamed for him to know I am here," said Mr. Steele. "You still think you can pull through with ten thousand dollars, Mr. Sterling?"

"Yes, sir, with the business prospect ahead."

"I hope you will, for I have decided to let you have that amount."

The words, which meant so much to him, were spoken so carelessly that Manly could hardly credit his senses for a time. Before he could reply the banker stopped his horse in front of the bank building, saying:

"Here we are, and I believe I can see Morgan in there waiting for us. If you will kindly hitch the horse, I will ascertain if such is the fact."

At that moment Mr. Morgan opened the door, and while Sheriff Whitcomb, with his head thrust out of his carriage so he could see what was taking place, drove past, Manly followed the two millionaires into the bank with feelings that would be hard to describe.

The bank president showed his surprise upon seeing our hero with Mr. Steele, but he said nothing, merely bowing stiffly to the young master of the iron mills. In the little private office Mr. Parton was found awaiting them.

He came forward, and, after shaking hands with Mr. Steele, unhesitatingly offered his hand to Manly.

"Glad to meet you and hope you are getting along well."

"Before we proceed to the business between us, Morgan, I have a little matter I wish to conclude with Mr. Sterling. Excuse me if I take this scrap of paper."

The banker then began to write hastily a common promissory note, saying, when he had finished :

"There, if you will sign that, Mr. Sterling, and Morgan and Parton will witness it, our business will soon be completed."

With these words he laid a draft upon the table for an amount equal to that called for by the note.

Mr. Morgan glanced at both, and then he fairly gasped:

"What are you doing, Steele?"

"Simply trying to help the boy out of a corner. He has asked me for a loan of ten thousand dollars for one year, and I have concluded to grant it."

"But what security do you get?"

"All that I ask—the two words comprising his name."

"Are you in your right mind, Steele? Of course it is none of my business, but we have a claim against Sterling & Grasp we should be happy to settle for twenty-five cents on a dollar."

"Which you will not be called upon to settle at such a sacrifice, Morgan. I don't think I am noted for making bad investments, and I do not believe I am mistaken in regard to the capital of this young man's courage and honest ability. If I am I ought to lose. I am willing to take my chances. I have noticed that it is not riches, it is not show, it is not activity, it is not even intellectual force which wins men prestige, but an inherent self-command, an unconscious undercurrent of firmness and foreordination in times that try the patience and power of men. He who commands the world first commands himself, with a title kings dare not dispute. Gentlemen, the strong man governs his opportunities; the weak man is governed by them."

"I have seen this young man improve opportunities which must have intimidated less bold, aggressive, manly spirits. I am going to test him now. Please sign the note as I have directed."

Without further delay Manly affixed his signature to the note as principal, while the president and cashier of Orecroft hank wrote their names as witnesses.

When this had been done, Mr. Steele held out his draft, saying:

"Here is what will bring you your money. Of course you can do as you think best, but it might be as well for you to let Mr. Morgan arrange it so you can get your money when you want it. Though it is out of regular hours of business, I have no doubt but he will fix it so you can have what money you want to use this evening without objection."

CHAPTER XVII.

STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE OP MANLY'S FATHER.

"Certainly, certainly," President Morgan hastened to say. "I shall be most happy to accommodate Mr. Sterling in any way I can."

Manly was both surprised and pleased at the sudden change which had come over the pompous bank official. For the first time in many days he felt his old time buoyancy and that the load was lifted from his mind. Perhaps it was better for him not to understand then how securely the drag-net of cunning schemers had been thrown about him. His ignorance of this gave him a brief respite and a chance to gain strength for a renewal of the trying struggle for a supremacy.