“No,” said Barker; “I mean the ’First’—­and it said First in the Boomville paper.”

“Yes, yes!—­I saw it—­it was a printer’s error.  The stock of the ‘First’ was called in two years ago.  No!  You mean the ‘Second,’ for, of course, you’ve followed the quotations, and are likely to know what stock you’re holding shares of.  When you go back, take a look at them, and you’ll see I am right.”

“But I brought them with me,” said Barker, with a slight flushing as he felt in his pocket, “and I am quite sure they are the ’First’.”  He brought them out and laid them on the desk before the manager.

The words “First Extension” were plainly visible.  The manager glanced curiously at Barker, and his brow darkened.

“Did anybody put this up on you?” he said sternly.  “Did your partners send you here with this stuff?”

“No! no!” said Barker eagerly.  “No one!  It’s all my mistake.  I see it now.  I trusted to the newspaper.”

“And you mean to say you never examined the stock or the quotations, nor followed it in any way, since you had it?”

“Never!” said Barker.  “Never thought about it at all till I saw the newspaper.  So it’s not worth anything?” And, to the infinite surprise of the manager, there was a slight smile on his boyish face.

“I am afraid it is not worth the paper it’s written on,” said the manager gently.

The smile on Barker’s face increased to a little laugh, in which his wondering companion could not help joining.  “Thank you,” said Barker suddenly, and rushed away.

“He beats everything!” said the manager, gazing after him.  “Damned if he didn’t seem even pleased.”

He was pleased.  The burden of wealth had fallen from his shoulders; the dreadful incubus that had weighed him down and parted his friends from him was gone!  And he had not got rid of it by spending it foolishly.  It had not ruined anybody yet; it had not altered anybody in his eyes.  It was gone; and he was a free and happy man once more.  He would go directly back to his partners; they would laugh at him, of course, but they could not look at him now with the same sad, commiserating eyes.  Perhaps even Kitty—­but here a sudden chill struck him.  He had forgotten the bill of sale!  He had forgotten the dreadful promissory note given to her father in the rash presumption of his wealth!  How could it ever be paid?  And more than that, it had been given in a fraud.  He had no money when he gave it, and no prospect of any but what he was to get from those worthless shares.  Would anybody believe him that it was only a stupid blunder of his own?  Yes, his partners might believe him; but, horrible thought, he had already implicated them in his fraud!  Even now, while he was standing there hesitatingly in the road, they were entering upon the new claim he had not paid for—­could not pay for—­and in the guise